LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


RUSSIA 

TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 


THE    MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

NKW  YORK    •    BOSTON   •    CHICAGO   •    DALLAS 
ATLANTA   •   SAM  FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO..  LIMITED 

LONDON   •    BOMBAY   •   CALCUTTA 

MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OP  CANADA,  Lm. 

TORONTO 


NOVOROSS1YSK 


Official  Soviet  Map  on  Famine  in  Russia. 


RUSSIA  |« 

TO-DAY  AND    TO-MORROW 


BY 

PAUL  N.   MILIUKOV 


MACMILLAN  AND  CO.,  LIMITED 

ST.  MARTIN'S  STREET,  LONDON 

1922 


PBLNTED  IN   THfl  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


COPYRIGHT,  1922, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  printed.    Published  May,  1923. 


Press  of 

.7.  J.  Little  &  Ives  Company 
New  York,  U.  S.  A. 


To 
MY  AMERICAN  AUDIENCES 


PREFACE 

This  book  has  its  origin  in  my  intercourse  with 
American  audiences  during  the  past  three  months. 
Hence — its  dedication.  It  could  not  have  been  written 
before  the  end  of  1921,  nor  could  it  have  taken  its  pres- 
ent form  in  surroundings  less  sympathetic  or  more  in- 
clined to  take  sides  in  the  events  here  described.  It 
was  necessary  for  the  cycle  of  events  in  Russia  to  come 
to  a  close,  before  its  meaning  could  become  patent  and 
a  criterium  be  found  by  which  these  events  could  be 
judged  in  their  unity  and  completion.  I  think  this  is 
now  the  case  with  both  the  "White"  and  the  "Red" 
movements  in  Russia.  The  former  ran  its  course  with 
the  loss  of  the  last  patch  of  anti-Bolshevist  territory  in 
the  Crimea ;  the  latter — with  the  Great  Russian  famine. 
General  Wrangel's  defeat  manifested  the  degeneration 
of  the  "White"  movement.  The  famine  of  1921  dem- 
onstrated Russia's  exhaustion  under  the  Bolshevist 
rule.  Whatever  happens  in  the  tune  to  come,  these 
two  phenomena  will  mark  the  turning  point  in  the 
Russian  Revolution. 

I  gladly  accepted  the  invitation  to  deliver  a  course  of 
eight  lectures  on  Russia  at  the  Lowell  Institute,  Boston, 
Mass.,  in  October  and  November,  1921,  because  by  this 
time  I  had  come  to  a  definite  conclusion  as  to  the  mean- 
ing and  the  place  of  the  Russian  events  of  the  past  four 
years  in  the  history  of  our  Revolution.  The  reader  will 
see  that  I  draw  a  distinction  between  the  Revolution  as 


viii  PREFACE 

a  great  historical  process  which  transforms  human  psy- 
chology and  institutions,  and  its  passing  stages  and 
varying  moods.  In  1903-1905  I  had  occasion  to  explain 
to  Chicago  and  Boston  audiences  the  origin  of  our 
revolutionary  process;  now  I  was  tempted  to  analyze 
its  present  significant  phase. 

It  is  important  for  the  reader  to  discriminate  between 
the  passing  form  and  the  lasting  substance  of  the  Rus- 
sian Revolution,  as  well  as  between  its  negative  and 
positive  aspects.  While  the  destructive  aspect  of  the 
Revolution  is  of  necessity  presented  in  detail  in  this 
book,  I  wish  that  the  constructive  processes  of  the 
Revolution  should  not  be  overlooked.  We  are  witness- 
ing the  birth  of  the  Russian  democracy,  in  the  midst 
of  the  ruins  of  the  past,  which  will  never  return.  One 
must  not  be  impatient  with  the  great  and  complicated 
revolutionary  process  which  in  other  countries  took  de- 
cades, if  not  centuries,  for  its  completion. 

The  double  title  of  this  book,  "Russia  To-day  and 
To-morrow,"  is  intended  to  keep  before  the  mind  of  the 
reader  that  basic  idea  of  the  Russian  Revolution.  One 
chapter  is  devoted  to  an  attempt  to  foretell  the  out- 
lines of  the  coming  Russia,  as  a  result  of  the  Revolu- 
tion. The  reader  will  observe,  however,  that  the  con- 
ception of  that  Russia  of  to-morrow  is  present  through- 
out the  book  and  forms  the  thread  which  permits  me 
to  find  myself  and  to  lead  the  reader  through  the  laby- 
rinth of  events. 

I  think  that  there  are  two  requisites  necessary  for  a 
successful  presentation  of  my  country's  case  before  the 
American  public  opinion:  the  presentation  must  be 
sincere  and  truly  democratic  in  spirit.  Were  I  not  cer- 
tain of  my  ability  to  meet  these  conditions,  I  would  not 


PREFACE  ix 

have  come  to  America.  I  found  my  audiences  here  ex- 
tremely interested  in  the  subject,  I  saw  what  they 
wanted  of  me,  and  I  finally  decided  to  present  in  book 
form  the  contents  of  m  ylectures  and  addresses.  Of 
course,  I  had  to  write  this  book  afresh  from  my  notes, 
and  this  gave  me  the  opportunity  to  expand  most  of 
the  chapters  far  beyond  the  space  of  an  hour's  lecture. 

The  first  eight  chapters  of  the  book  correspond  with 
my  lectures  at  the  Lowell  Institute  (October  25-No- 
vember  18,  and  November  1-November  22,  1921)  and 
I  have  preserved  their  titles.  The  ninth  and  the  tenth 
chapters,  in  their  initial  form,  formed  the  contents  of 
my  address  before  the  Civic  Forum  in  New  York,  de- 
livered, under  the  title  "Russia  To-day  and  To-mor- 
row," at  the  Town  Hall,  on  November  11,  1921.  The 
ninth  chapter  ("Russia  To-morrow")  is  closely  con- 
nected with  the  lectures  delivered  in  Boston,  and  pre- 
sents their  natural  conclusion. 

The  last  two  chapters  deal  with  the  relations,  diplo- 
matic and  intellectual,  between  Russia  and  the  outside 
world.  I  did  not  intend  to  exhaust  the  question,  but 
only  to  concentrate  attention  on  the  two  aspects  which 
are  of  special  interest  to  America.  The  Russian,  and 
especially  the  Siberian  question,  as  it  might  have  been 
put  before  the  Washington  Conference,  could  not  be 
omitted  at  the  moment  when  the  Conference  was  in 
the  center  of  the  world's  attention.  That  is  why  I 
have  treated  that  problem  in  greater  detail  than  in  my 
lecture  before  the  Civic  Forum.  The  Siberian-Jap- 
anese problem  formed  the  subject  of  my  lectures  at 
the  Cleveland  Reserve  University  (at  the  McBride 
Foundation)  and  at  the  Chicago  University,  on  De- 
cember 13  and  14.  Of  course,  in  its  final  form  the  sub- 


x  PREFACE 

ject  has  been  brought  up  to  the  present  moment,  and 
the  chapter  includes  an  analysis  of  the  stand  taken  by 
the  Washington  Conference;  the  readers  will  also  find 
in  this  chapter  new  material  brought  to  Washington 
by  the  Vladivostok  delegation.  The  eleventh  chapter 
("Russia's  Contribution  to  the  World  Civilization") 
reproduces  a  lecture  delivered  at  Columbia  University, 
on  November  28,  1921.  Its  content  is  not  closely  con- 
nected with  the  other  parts  of  the  book,  but  I  followed 
the  advice  of  some  of  my  hearers,  who  found  that  in 
"Russia  of  To-morrow"  the  noblest  side  of  the  Rus- 
sian life  of  yesterday  and  to-day,  its  great-  culture, 
could  not  be  omitted. 

I  cannot  mention  here  all  the  opportunities  afforded 
me  to  address  numerous  American  audiences  on  the 
various  phases  of  the  Russian  problem.  The  text  of 
some  of  those  addresses  is  preserved  in  the  publication 
of  the  respective  institutions.*  I  can  only  say  that 
it  was  the  free  exchange  of  opinions,  of  questions  and 
answers,  which  particularly  stimulated  me  to  fix  my 
views  in  this  book  and  which  drew  my  attention  to 
special  points  needing  and  deserving  elucidation. 

I  hope  that  this  book  will  meet  with  the  same  atten- 
tion which  was  accorded  its  author  by  his  American 
audiences. 

PAUL  N.  MILIUKOV. 
New  York,  February  7,  1922. 

*See  "The  Consensus,"  published  by  the  National  Economic 
League  of  Boston,  Vol.  7,  No.  1,  January,  1922;  also  the  "Annals 
of  the  American  Academy  of  Political  and  Social  Science."  Phila- 
delphia, March,  1922. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    WHY    THE     REVOLUTION     COULD    Nor    BE 

AVERTED  1 

II.    WHY  THE  BOLSHEVIKS  GOT  THE  UPPER  HAND  23 

III.  THE  BOLSHEVIST  REGIME 45 

IV.  THE  REVOLUTION  AND  NATIONALITIES  71 
V.    THE  FOREIGN  POLICY  OF  BOLSHEVIKS  .     .     .96 

VI.    ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA 121 

VII.    THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM 188 

VIII.    THE  FAMINE   . 231 

IX.    RUSSIA  TO-MORROW 262 

X.    RUSSIA — SIBERIA — JAPAN — WASHINGTON    .     .  297 

XI.    RUSSIA'S    CONTRIBUTION    TO    THE    WORLD'S 

CIVILIZATION 355 

ALPHABETICAL  INDEX  389 


RUSSIA 

TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 


RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND 
TO-MORROW 


CHAPTER  I. 

WHY  THE  REVOLUTION  COULD  NOT  BE 
AVERTED. 

Seventeen  years  ago,  in  1904,  I  addressed  an  Ameri- 
can audience  on  the  subject  of  the  Russian  Crisis. 
Some  of  my  present  readers  may  recall,  in  substance, 
what  I  then  said.  I  am  now  going  to  speak  on  the 
Russian  Catastrophe.  In  this  catastrophe,  we  witness 
the  end,  or,  at  any  rate,  the  continuation  of  the  same 
process  which  then  began.  This  change  from  "Crisis" 
to  "Catastrophe"  may  convey  to  you  the  tragic  mean- 
ing of  the  revolutionary  process  which  has  developed 
in  Russia  during  these  seventeen  years. 

In  1904  the  first  Russian  Revolution  was  approach- 
ing. It  took  place  in  the  year  following  my  first  com- 
ing here.  The  symptoms  of  the  Revolution  were  so 
clear  and  obvious  to  everybody,  except  the  Tsar  and 
his  Government,  that  it  was  not  very  difficult  to  play 
the  prophet.  The  reasons  why  the  first  Russian  Revo- 
lution, in  1905,  became  unavoidable  were  discussed  in 
my  previous  lectures.1 

I  am  going  to  tell  you  now  what  has  happened  since 

'"Russia  and  its  Crisis,"  1905,  Chicago  University  Press. 

1 


2        RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

and  just  what  made  necessary  and  unavoidable  the 
second  Russian  Revolution  in  1917. 

The  chief  reason  was  that  the  first  Revolution 
proved  abortive.  In  a  moment  of  panic  the  Tsar 
signed  the  renowned  October  (30)  Manifesto  of  1905. 
Had  this  promise  been  seriously  meant  and  had  it  re- 
sulted hi  a  real  constitution  and  a  sound  beginning 
of  political  freedom  been  made  at  that  tune,  the  second 
Revolution  might  not  have  happened  at  all.  But,  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  the  Tsar  never  wished  to  curtail  his 
prerogatives.  His  view,  and  especially  the  view  of  the 
Tsarina,  was  that  it  was  his  moral  duty,  to  pass  unim- 
paired the  whole  inheritance  that  he  had  received  from 
God  and  from  his  ancestors  to  his  heir  and  successor. 
This  uncompromising  view,  common  to  all  autocrats, 
made  tragic  the  Tsar's  destiny.  But  it  also  caused  the 
Russian  revolutionary  process-  to  continue  and  at  the 
same  time  it  extremely  complicated  its  issues. 

The  Tsar  soon  repented  having  yielded  even  so 
little  as  he  really  had  given  to  the  Russian  people.  He 
was  always  on  the  alert  for  a  favorable  moment  to 
come,  to  recover  his  complete  autocratic  power.  The 
young  popular  representative,  the  "Duma,"  on  the 
other  hand,  wished  to  extend  its  power  over  the  ex- 
tremely narrow  limits  of  the  sham  constitution  of 
1906.  The  Duma  insisted  on  being  a  reed  represen- 
tation of  the  nation  and  a  real  legislative  organ  of 
power.  Nicholas  II  remained  hostile  to  his  creation. 
He  preserved  his  right  to  nominate  his  ministers  and 
half  of  the  members  of  the  Upper  House,  and  he  made 
unlimited  use  of  that  right  in  order  to  do  what  he  liked 
and  to  paralyze  every  action  of  the  Duma  which  was 


REVOLUTION  COULD  NOT  BE  AVERTED  3 

not  to  his  taste.  That  is  why  the  decade  of  years  which 
passed  between  the  two  Revolutions  (1906-1917)  was 
filled  with  relentless  struggle  between  the  Duma  and 
the|'Tsar's  ministers,  which  made  peaceful  progress  im- 
possible for  Russia. 

This  struggle  passed  through  two  stages,  which  cor- 
respond to  the  periods  of  the  sessions  of  the  two  first 
and  two  last  Dumas.  The  first  stage,  which  includes 
the  activity  of  the  first  two  Dumas,  was  short  and 
violent  (1906-7).  The  second  stage,  that  of  the  last 
two  Dumas  (1907-1917),  was  comparatively  long  and 
outwardly  quiet.  But  there  was  no  quiet  in  the  coun- 
try. A  second  conflict,  much  more  serious  than  the 
first,  was  ripening,  and  everybody  knew  it. 

The  political  party  I  belong  to  (the  Constitutional- 
Democratic,  founded  in  1905,  the  first  of  the  Russian 
constitutional  parties)  through  all  four  Dumas  never 
ceased  to  be  in  opposition  to  the  Tsar's  Government. 
In  fact,  all  the  parties  that  claimed  to  represent  de- 
mocracy, either  bourgeois  or  socialistic,  were  on  the 
same  side.  We,  I  mean  my  party,  the  "Cadets"  (the 
Constitutional-Democratic)  had  been  in  the  majority 
in  the  first  Duma,  An  attempt  was  made  by  the  Tsar, 
through  his  ministers,  to  approach  me  on  the  subject 
of  building  a  majority  Cabinet.  But  the  mediators 
were  not  in  earnest.  They  were  anxious  to  have  some 
popular  names  in  the  Cabinet,  but  they  were  not  pre- 
pared to  make  any  substantial  concessions  to  our  politi- 
cal program.  Of  course,  under  such  conditions,  we 
were  unable  to  take  the  power  and  the  responsibility 
before  the  nation.  The  negotiations  came  to  nothing, 
and  the  chance  for  a  peaceful  evolution  was  lost.  The 


4        RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

alternative,  proposed  to  the  Tsar  by  his  bureaucratic 
minister,  Mr.  Stolypin,  was,  to  dissolve  the  first  Duma, 
"the  Duma  of  popular  hopes,"  as  it  was  called.  Un- 
fortunately, the  Tsar  decided  to  take  that  advice.  The 
Duma  was  dissolved  after  70  days  of  existence.  An 
appeal  for  passive  resistance,  issued  by  the  opposition 
from  Viborg,  fell  flat.  However,  the  nation's  answer 
to  the  dissolution  of  the  Duma  was  given  on  the  oc- 
casion of  new  elections.  The  electors,  in  spite  of  all 
exertions  of  the  Government  (not  yet  quite  experi- 
enced in  the  art  of  electioneering),  sent  to  the  second 
Duma — the  Duma  of  the  "popular  wrath" — a  socialist 
majority,  instead  of  the  former  bourgeois  radical  one. 
Thenceforth,  the  fate  of  the  popular  representation  was 
sealed.  A  compromise  had  been  possible  with  the  con- 
stitutionalist majority,  but,  as  has  been  shown,  it  did 
not  materialize.  No  compromise  whatever  was  possible 
with  the  socialist  parties,  who  were  then  extremist  and 
revolutionary.  After  100  days  of  existence,  in  spite 
of  its  very  cautious  tactics,  the  second  Duma  was  also 
dissolved.  The  motive — this  time  it  was  a  very  serious 
one — was  found  in  the  attempt  of  an  extreme  socialist 
faction  to  make  use  of  their  parliamentary  seats  to  pre- 
pare for  a  revolution  in  Russia. 

The  second  stage  began  with  an  open  breach  of  the 
Constitution.  Mr.  Stolypin,  under  the  influence  of  the 
nobility  and  reactionary  parties,  persuaded  the  Tsar, 
before  summoning  the  third  Duma,  to  change  the 
electoral  law.  According  to  the  Fundamental  Law  of 
1905,  granted  by  the  Tsar  himself,  this  change  could 
not  have  been  introduced  without  the  consent  of  the 
Duma.  But  the  Constitution  was  violated.  A  new 
electoral  statute  was  promulgated  by  the  Tsar's  order 
on  June  16,  1907,  which  artificially  transferred  the  ma- 


REVOLUTION  COULD  NOT  BE  AVERTED  5 

jority  from  the  democratic  parties  to  the  privileged 
class  of  the  nobility  and  the  gentry.1 

From  that  moment  the  Duma  lost  all  its  influence  on 
the  nation.  Political  parties,  representing  the  masses, 
were  declared  "illegal"  and  officially  prosecuted.  To 
take  their  place  in  the  Duma,  new  parties  were  built 
under  the  auspices  of  the  Government,  and  these  repre- 
sented the  privileged  classes  or  reactionary  political 
groups.  It  was  this  fictitious  representation,  ready  to 
follow  every  hint  of  the  Government,  which  functioned 
as  a  legislative  organ  during  the  decade  of  1907-17. 
Only  such  laws  had  a  chance  to  pass  as  were  desired 
or  introduced  by  the  Government.  All  exertions  of  the 
opposition  to  give  the  form  of  laws  to  the  general  prin- 
ciples proclaimed  by  the  October  manifesto  of  1905, 
such  as  liberty  of  speech,  liberty  of  conscience,  of  meet- 
ings, locomotion,  inviolability  of  person,  were-regularly 
defeated  by  the  governmental  majority  or  were  post- 
poned ad  Kalendas  Gmcas.  On  the  other  hand,  im- 
portant legislation  was  passed  securing  the  landed 

1  This  important  fact  can  be  illustrated  by  the  change  in  social 
composition  of  the  Duma  before  and  after  the  breach  of  the  Con- 
stitution. 

Before  1907        After  1907 
(per  cent.)        (per  cent.) 

Landed  gentry 34  61 

Peasants 43  22.4 

Burgesses  23  24.2 

Workingmen    3.4  2.3 

It  must  be  added  that  under  the  electoral  regulation  of  June  16, 
1907,  peasants'  and  workmen's  deputies  were  elected  from  a  number 
of  candidates  not  by  themselyes  but  by  a  group  of  biggest  landowners 
and  richest  burgesses,  at  their  choice,  in  electoral  assemblies  of  the 
Provinces.  This  explains  why  the  peasants'  representatives,  who 
filled  up  the  ranks  of  the  opposition  in  the  first  two  Dumas,  now 
almost  exclusively  sat  on  the  backs  of  the  Government  parties, 
thus  enforcing  the  absolute  majority  of  the  landed  gentry.  See  my 
article  on  "The  Representative  System  in  Russia,"  in  "Russian  Re- 
alities and  Problems,"  Cambridge,  Great  Britain,  1917. 


6        RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

property  of  the  nobles  or  curtailing  the  rights  of  na- 
tionalities (Finland,  Poland). 

However,  there  was  another  side  to  that  domination 
of  the  Duma  by  the  Government, — and  it  must  not  be 
overlooked.  In  such  questions  as  budget,  education, 
national  defense,  the  governmental  majority,  from 
patriotic  considerations  or  under  the  influence  of  public 
opinion,  was  often  moved  to  vote  with  the  opposition 
against  the  Government.  Such  votes,  of  course,  had 
no  practical  consequences.  They  did  not  overthrow 
the  Cabinets.  The  vote  of  mistrust  in  no  way  deprived 
the  ministers  of  the  Tsar's  confidence.  On  the  con- 
trary: it  almost  seemed  that  the  more  a  minister  suc- 
ceeded in  antagonizing  the  Duma,  the  more  reliable 
he  was  considered  to  be  in  that  contest  between  the  old 
regime  and  the  Russian  democracy. 

As  a  result,  the  activity  of  the  Duma — even  in  its 
chastened  form — far  from  removing  the  danger  of  a 
new  revolution,  rather  contributed  to  increase  this  dan- 
ger. Any  constructive  work  which  might  satisfy  public 
needs  and  thus  help  to  mitigate  popular  disaffection, 
was  made  impossible  by  the  governmental  majority 
and  by  the  Upper  House  of  a  unique  structure:  "a 
cemetery  of  the  Duma's  good  intentions,"  as  witty 
people  called  it.  On  the  other  hand,  open  criticism  of 
the  Government's  policy  could  not  be  forbidden  to  the 
opposition.  The  Duma's  sittings,  which  were  public, 
soon  became  the  only  place  where  free  speech  was 
heard,  and  no  censure  was  able  to  stifle  severe  exposure 
of  the  Government's  secret  designs.  The  names  of 
the  opposition  speakers  in  the  Duma  became  widely 
known  all  over  the  country.  This  explains  why,  under 
the  second  Revolution,  the  opposition  leaders  of  the 
Duma  automatically  became  leaders  of  the  popular 


REVOLUTION  COULD  NOT  BE  AVERTED  7 

movement,  in  which  the  Duma  itself  was  unable  to 
play  any  part. 

At  the  same  time,  public  debates  on  questions  of 
budget,  legislation,  foreign  politics,  military  and  naval 
defense  contributed  to  lift  the  veil  which  until  then  had 
kept  back  the  unqualified  laymen  from  the  sanctuary 
of  governmental  practice.  Due  to  the  Duma,  political 
discussion  was  becoming  common  property. 

In  the  general  opinion,  even  of  the  moderate  circles, 
the  second  Revolution  was  bound  to  come.  Moreover, 
everybody  was  sure  that  this  revolution  was  bound  to 
be  a  greater  success  than  the  first  one,  as  a  result  of 
the  better  political  education  of  the  masses. 

This  is  a  very  brief  and  rapid  outline  of  the  political 
events  which  contributed  to  prepare  the  second  Rus- 
sian Revolution,  in  1917.  But  you  could  never  realize 
just  why  an  uprising  against  such  a  tremendous  power 
as  that  of  the  old  autocracy  seemed  to  be  proved  so 
easy,  and  why  the  whole  fabric  of  the  bureaucracy 
went  to  pieces  at  once  and  was  so  thoroughly  destroyed 
to  its  very  foundations,  should  I  confine  myself  to  that 
outward  description  of  the  general  trend  of  the  latest 
events,  since  I  last  was  in  America.  A  deeper  insight 
into  the  Russian  past  is  necessary  in  order  to  explain 
certain  special  features  of  the  Russian  Revolution.  My 
explanation  remains  substantially  the  same  as  that 
which  I  gave  to  my  American  readers  before  the  Revo- 
lution. 

Speaking  generally,  one  may  say  that  at  a  certain 
period  of  national  development  a  violent  overthrow  of 
obsolete  political  and  social  institutions  is  very  likely 
to  come  in  every  civilized  community  capable  of 
evolving  from  medievalism  to  modern  democracy.  The 
Russian  Revolution  is  no  exception  to  that  general 


8        RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

rule.  It  is  in  many  aspects  similar  to  other  revolu- 
tions, e.g.,  the  English  Revolution  of  the  XVII  Cen- 
tury— and  especially  the  great  French  Revolution  of 
1789-95.  In  my  capacity  of  historian  I  have  studied 
both.  But  after  having  passed  through  that  living  ex- 
perience of  our  own  Revolution,  I  read  again,  in  1917, 
Mr.  Taine's  volumes  on  the  "Ancient  Regime  and  the 
Revolution" — and  I  was  amazed  at  many  similarities 
in  the  smallest  details  which  never  before  had  arrested 
my  attention.  I  now  realize  better  than  at  any  time 
of  my  former  studies,  just  how  much  similar  is  the 
psychology  of  all  revolutions. 

But,  at  the  same  time,  one  must  not  forget  that  every 
nation  has  its  peculiarities,  in  its  revolutionary,  as  well 
as  in  its  normal  stage  of  development.  To  make  you 
understand  that  special  character  of  the  Russian  Revo- 
lution, I  must  draw  your  attention  to  these  peculiar 
features,  made  our  own  by  the  whole  process  of  Rus- 
sia's history.  To  my  mind,  all  these  features  converge 
into  one.  The  fundamental  difference  which  distin- 
guishes Russia's  social  structure  from  that  of  other 
civilized  countries,  can  be  characterized  as  a  certain 
weakness  or  lack  of  a  strong  cohesion  or  cementation  of 
elements  which  form  a  social  compound.  You  can  ob- 
serve that  lack  of  consolidation  in  the  Russian  social 
aggregate  in  every  aspect  of  civilized  life:  political, 
social,  mental  and  national. 

From  the  political  point  of  view,  the  Russian  State 
institutions  lacked  cohesion  and  amalgamation  with 
the  popular  masses  over  which  they  ruled.  This  pe- 
culiarity can  be  explained  by  the  origin  of  the  Russian 
State  and  by  the  process  of  its  historical  growth.  Orig- 
inated on  the  confines  of  Europe  and  Asia,  the  Russian 
State  was  late  to  appear.  You  can  observe  a  certain 


REVOLUTION  COULD  NOT  BE  AVERTED  9 

regularity  in  the  order  of  development  of  States  as 
you  go  from  the  West  to  the  East  of  Europe.  The 
same  process  of  evolution  of  State  institutions  which 
took  place  on  the  banks  of  the  Seine  and  Loire  as  early 
as  V-VII  Century  A.D.,  developed  itself  one  or  two 
centuries  later  (VII-VIII)  in  the  countries  eastwards 
from  the  Rhine,  and  four  or  five  centuries  later  on  the 
Eastern  Mark  of  Germany  (IX-XI).  On  the  bound- 
less plains  of  the  future  Russian  Empire,  State  institu- 
tions developed  five  to  nine  centuries  later  than  in 
France:  the  earliest  date  being  that  of  Southern  Rus- 
sia (Kieff  on  the  Dnieper  River,  IX-XII  Century), 
and  the  latest — that  of  the  Muscovite  center  (XIV 
Century). 

Now,  as  a  consequence  of  their  later  appearance,  the 
State  institutions  in  Eastern  Europe  necessarily  as- 
sumed certain  forms  which  were  different  from  those  in 
the  West.  The  State  in  the  East  had  no  time  to  orig- 
inate from  within,  in  a  process  of  organic  evolution. 
It  was  brought  to  the  East  from  outside.  In  the  West, 
the  State  gradually  evolved  from  the  initial  stage  of 
tribal  existence,  through  the  intermediary  stage  of 
tribal  aristocracy  (the  heads  of  the  clans).  In  the 
East,  the  internal  differentiation  within  the  tribes  had 
not  yet  made  sufficient  progress  when  the  necessity  of  a 
State  organization  was  felt.  In  the  absence  of  internal 
elements  of  national  statehood,  the  State  institutions 
were  then  simply  superposed  over  the  tribal  institu- 
tions. We  have  a  very  telling  legend  which  symbolizes 
this  kind  of  origin  of  the  Russian  State.  The  emis- 
saries of  the  Russian  Slavic  tribes,  the  legend  runs, 
went  to  the  Northern  viking  Hrorekr,  to  invite  him  to 
come  to  Russia  and  to  take  up  the  kingly  power. 
"Our  land,"  it  is  related  they  said,  "is  a  very  large  and 


10      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

rich  one.  But  order  is  lacking.  Come  to  rule  and  to 
reign  over  us."  You  will  often  hear  now  that  expres- 
sion "calling  for  Northmen,"  used  to  suggest  that  Rus- 
sia wants  again  its  "order"  to  be  brought  from  out- 
side. The  same  legend  was  used  by  the  first  and  the 
only  doctrine  of  Russian  nationalism  we  have  ever  had, 
— by  the  so-called  Slavophil  doctrine.  The  Slavophils 
wished  to  prove  by  it  that  Russian  State  institutions, 
being  of  foreign  origin,  remained  foreign  to  the  Rus- 
sian soul  and  to  the  Russian  country.  The  "land"  did 
not  wish  to  share  in  the  sin  of  the  "State."  The  "land" 
would  rather  have  chosen  the  way  of  "internal  truth" 
— the  path  of  Mary — and  have  left  the  path  of  Martha 
— that  of  "external  truth,"  of  "order"  preserved  by 
force — to  foreign  hirelings. 

The  point  is,  indeed,  that  for  centuries  the  State 
power  has  remained  in  Russia  what  it  was  when  the 
Northern  vikings  first  came:  an  outsider  to  whom 
allegiance  was  won  only  in  the  measure  of  his  utility. 
The  people  were  not  willing  to  assimilate  themselves  to 
the  State,  to  feel  a  part  of  it,  responsible  for  the  whole. 
The  country  continued  to  feel  and  to  live  independent 
from  the  State  authorities.  This  was  not  only  possible: 
it  was  practically  unavoidable  as  a  natural  result  of  an 
extremely  primitive  and  undeveloped  system  of  admin- 
istration. Under  that  system,  which  was  characterized 
by  an  extreme  scarcity  of  the  executive  organs  of  ad- 
ministration in  the  country,  the  central  Government 
was  simply  unable  to  get  at  every  single  citizen. 
Whether  it  had  to  collect  taxes  and  duties,  or  to  prose- 
cute criminal  offenders,  its  only  means  for  a  very  long 
tune  was  to  address  itself  to  the  whole  community  to 
which  this  particular  taxpayer  or  criminal  offender  be- 
longed. The  community  was  made  responsible  for  its 


REVOLUTION  COULD  NOT  BE  AVERTED  11 

single  member.  When  Peter  the  Great  decided  to 
change  that  state  of  things  and  to  introduce  a  better 
order  into  that  primitive  anarchy,  by  following  the 
example  of  the  Swedish  system  of  administration — 
which  was  then  held  in  high  repute — his  foreign  ad- 
visers informed  him  that  it  was  impossible  to  apply 
that  system  to  Russia.  The  simple  reason  was  that  it 
was  too  expensive.  They  told  Peter  that  the  cost  of 
administering  one  small  Province,  like  Liefland,  on  the 
Swedish  pattern,  was  more  than  the  current  expenses 
for  the  whole  of  Russia,  when  kept  in  order  by  tradi- 
tional means. 

The  population  was  too  poor  to  bear  the  expenses  of 
the  perfected  provincial  institutions  of  more  advanced 
countries.  Nay,  it  was  even  too  poor  to  bear  the  ex- 
penses of  the  central  administration  with  its  rapidly 
growing  needs.  Political  development  and  the  process 
of  expansion  of  the  Russian  State  was  always  in  ad- 
vance of  Russia's  economic  development.  That  is  why 
the  State  was  forced  to  extract  from  its  poor  subjects 
more  than  they  could  possibly  give.  Hence  the  objec- 
tive necessity  to  resort  to  force.  The  burden  of  sus- 
taining the  expanding  State's  institutions  was  becom- 
ing extremely  heavy,  and,  of  course,  this  growing 
charge  was  unable  to  contribute  to  transform  traditional 
passive  submission  into  a  voluntary  habit  to  obey. 

You  now  can  see  why  in  Russia  (1),  the  rural  popu- 
lation up  to  the  last  remained,  in  a  sense,  natural  an- 
archists; (2),  why  all  important  changes  were  bound  to 
come  from  above,  from  the  State  authorities,  and  (3), 
why  each  new  power,  which  did  not  get  too  much 
"under  the  skin"  of  the  plain  people,  was  sure  of  being 
passively  obeyed.  This  explains  to  a  great  extent  the 
events  of  the  Russian  Revolution. 


12      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

We  now  pass  to  another  aspect  of  the  same  basic 
feature:  the  lack  of  cohesion  among  the  social  ele- 
ments in  Russia.  We  do  not  find  in  the  social  history 
of  Russia  any  groups  of  population  strong  enough  to 
limit  the  power  of  the  State.  We  know  that  the  case 
was  different  in  Western  Europe  under  medieval  feud- 
alism or  under  more  modern  growth  of  urban  liberties. 
In  the  European  East  there  was  no  landed  aristocracy 
and  no  "bourgeoisie"  strong  and  united  enough  to  be 
able  to  dictate  conditions  to  the  growing  power  of  the 
Tsar.  In  Russia,  as  well  as  under  the  Byzantine  or 
the  Moslem  rule,  all  land  was  supposed  to  belong  origi- 
nally to  the  Chief  of  the  State,  whether  his  name  was 
Emperor,  Tsar  or  Khalif.  The  landed  aristocracy,  far 
from  limiting  the  power  of  their  sovereign,  was  in  Rus- 
sia created  by  that  same  autocratic  power  as  a  class  of 
the  Tsar's  military  "servants."  The  Tsar  allotted  to 
them  their  landed  estates,  on  the  condition  of  actual 
military  service. 

It  is  very  characteristic  that  in  Russia,  since  the  XVI 
Century,  the  words  "courtiers"  and  "men  of  service" 
were  used  to  designate  the  class  of  nobility  and  gentry. 
It  is  true  that  in  the  XVIII  Century  the  Tsar's  dona- 
tions of  military  lots  of  land  definitely  evolved  into 
unlimited  and  unconditioned  private  landed  property. 
But  the  Russian  peasants  did  not  forget  that  origi- 
nally their  landlord's  estates  belonged  to  the  Tsar.  And 
from  that  very  moment  when  military  lots  became  the 
private  property  of  the  nobles,  the  peasants  persist- 
ently waited  for  the  time  when  the  Tsar  would  be  kind 
enough  to  learn  about  their  needs  and  to  give  them  back 
the  "land."  They  were  sure  that  he  would  do  that, 
while  remunerating  his  old  "servants"  with  money. 

On  their  part  the  landed  nobility  were  doing  exactly 


REVOLUTION  COULD  NOT  BE  AVERTED  13 

the  opposite  to  what  was  necessary  to  undermine  that 
popular  opinion.  In  the  first  place,  there  was  no  law 
of  primogeniture  in  Russia.  Landed  estates  were  di- 
vided and  subdivided,  until  in  the  third  or  fourth  gen- 
eration they  formed  a  number  of  small  lots  which  did 
not  much  differ  from  the  peasants'  holdings.  Few 
ancient  families  of  nobles  remained  alive :  most  of  them 
died  out.  Admission  to  the  gentry  being  free  to  every- 
body, the  emptied  ranks  were  gradually  filled  with  new- 
comers. Especially,  from  Peter  the  Great's  time  it  was 
sufficient  to  have  reached  a  certain  rank  hi  the  bureau- 
cratic or  military  service,  or  (at  a  later  date)  to  have 
been  decorated  with  St.  Vladimir's  order,  to  enter  the 
ranks  of  the  nobility.  As  time  went  on,  that  new 
aristocracy  of  "rank"  lost  in  its  turn  a  great  part  of  its 
possessions,  together  with  the  former  aristocracy  of 
"provenience."  A  good  deal  was  purchased  by  the 
peasants  as  a  result  of  the  Emancipation  Act  of  1861. 
But  the  nobles  still  preserved  about  105  million  des- 
siatines.  They  went  on  losing  them  during  the  last 
half  century.  Only  a  third  of  the  number  just  men- 
tioned (35  million)  remained  in  their  possession  at  the 
moment  of  the  Revolution  of  1917.  The  peasants  in- 
sisted on  this  remaining  third  being  given  over  to 
them  with  the  rest.  It  was,  practically,  this  claim  of 
the  peasants  that  lay  at  the  basis  of  all  political  strug- 
gle of  the  last  decades.  It  was  this  social  question 
which  complicated  so  much  the  just  and  timely  solu- 
tion of  the  problem  of  political  freedom.  The  agrarian 
question  had  become  the  chief  point  of  contention  and 
competition  in  all  party  platforms.  The  socialist 
groups  accepted  the  peasants'  standpoint  concerning 
the  transfer  of  lands  from  the  nobles,  but  they  wanted 
these  lands  to  be  given  to  the  State,  not  to  private 


14      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

peasants.  My  party,  the  "bourgeois"  democracy,  tried 
to  reconcile  the  popular  claims  with  the  point  of  view 
of  law  on  private  property  and  with  sound  economic 
principles.  It  was  chiefly  with  the  aim  to  make  such 
solutions  impossible  that  the  Government  dispersed 
the  first  two  Dumas,  and  changed  the  Electoral  Law 
to  the  benefit  of  the  nobles.  Under  the  third,  the  Duma 
of  the  Government's  own  choice,  the  State  authori- 
ties took  the  side  of  the  big  landowners.  The  new 
Premier,  Mr.  Stolypin,  tried  by  special  legislation  to 
divert  the  peasants'  attention  from  the  lands  of  the 
nobility,  and  to  remunerate  the  rich  peasants  at  the 
expense  of  the  poorest.  This  experiment  of  reactionary 
social  legislation  was  among  the  causes  which  con- 
tributed to  the  success  of  the  extreme  elements  under 
the  second  Revolution.  The  very  first  result  of  that 
Revolution  was  to  deprive  the  new  privileged  group  of 
the  well-to-do  peasant  landowners  of  their  possessions 
acquired  under  Mr.  Stolypin's  agrarian  legislation.  But 
then,  the  revolutionary  process  went  farther.  The 
peasants'  solution  of  the  agrarian  tangle  prevailed 
amidst  the  general  crisis.  The  same  revolutionary  out- 
break which  destroyed  the  autocracy,  also  completely 
swept  away  its  ally,  the  landed  aristocracy  and  the  gen- 
try. You  now  can  see  to  what  a  large  extent  this  issue 
was  favored  and  prepared  by  the  social  history  of  Rus- 
sia. 

Let  us  now  pass  to  the  third  aspect  of  the  funda- 
mental feature  mentioned  above:  to  the  weakness  of 
mental  cohesion  between  the  different  social  groups 
of  the  nation.  Of  course,  it  would  be  strange  to  deny 
that  a  certain  national  way  of  feeling  and  thinking  is 
common  to  all  social  groups.  A  Russian  intellectual 
is  no  foreigner  to  his  people.  But  history,  here  too 


REVOLUTION  COULD  NOT  BE  AVERTED  15 

for  a  long  time,  prevented  both  groups,  the  intellect- 
uals and  the  people,  from  being  welded  together.  In 
the  first  place,  up  to  the  last  half  century,  the  only 
educated  class  in  Russia  was  the  nobility  and  gentry. 
The  fate  of  this  class  was  partly  shared  by  the  intellect- 
uals. Under  Peter  the  Great,  (1689-1725)  to  serve  the 
State  in  its  process  of  reform,  they  hurriedly  picked 
up  some  superficial  knowledge  of  applied  science 
abroad.  Under  the  Empress  Elizabeth  (1741-1761), 
to  please  her,  tney  imitated  French  fashions  and 
learned  to  dress,  to  speak,  and  to  dance,  as  it  behooved 
accomplished  courtiers.  Under  Catherine  II  (1762- 
1796),  to  follow  her  example,  they  read  Montesquieu 
and  Voltaire,  and  made  progress  in  advanced  politics. 
Under  Alexander  I  (1801-1825),  they  definitely  be- 
came revolutionaries.  For  the  first  time,  they  decided 
to  serve — not  the  "State,"  but  the  country,  and  they 
did  it  in  their  own  manner,  in  the  way  of  Riego's  and 
Pepe's.  But,  by  their  social  extraction,  as  well  as  by 
the  Government's  policy,  they  still  were  prevented 
from  actual  intercourse  with  the  people.  The  conse- 
quence of  their  estrangement  from  active  politics  and 
from  contact  with  the  plain  people  was  an  abstract  way 
of  thinking.  Again,  their  abstract  way  of  thinking 
drove  them  to  a  sort  of  intellectual  extremism.  The 
February  Revolution  in  France  (1848)  made  them 
socialists.  They  thenceforth  obediently  followed  the 
metamorphoses  of  European  socialism,  passing  from 
Fourier  to  Proudhon,  from  Proudhon  to  Karl  Marx, 
and  from  Marx  to  revolutionary  syndicalism.  At  the 
same  time,  beginning  with  the  middle  of  the  XIX  Cen- 
tury, their  ranks  began  to  fill  up  from  the  lower  social 
layers,  and  they  definitely  forsook  civil  and  military 
service  for  journalism,  for  the  academic  career,  science, 


16      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

art  and  other  liberal  vocations.  They  studied  pretty 
thoroughly  the  political  life  of  the  advanced  democra- 
cies. But  they  had  no  access  to  their  own.  That  is 
why  they  remained  extremists,  with  very  little,  if  any, 
political  experience.  The  extremism  of  that  part  of  the 
Russian  intellectuals  is  to  be  greatly  responsible  for 
the  failure  of  the  first  Revolution.  It  also  proved 
detrimental  to  the  success  of  our  second  Revolution, 
when  a  chance  was  given  them  for  realizing  their  doc- 
trines. 

The  fourth  symptom  of  the  lack  of  amalgamation  is 
manifested  by  the  divergent  tendencies  of  the  nationali- 
ties incorporated  into  the  Russian  State.  I  am  far 
from  asserting  that  no  common  interests  united  them 
with  the  whole  of  the  Empire.  On  the  contrary,  there 
were  a  great  many  ties  between  them  and  Russia,  and 
their  severance  is  particularly  keenly  felt  now  that  some 
of  these  nationalities  are  detached  from  the  whole. 
But,  there  too,  the  aggregate  was  kept  together  by 
passive  rather  by  conscious  desire  to  make  one.  The 
system  of  centralization  and  oppression  used  by  the 
autocracy  revolted  the  national  feeling.  Disaffection 
grew  particularly  strong  during  the  last  three  decades 
of  years,  since  the  last  attempts  made  by  the  reaction- 
ary Government  of  Alexander  III  to  "Russianize"  these 
nationalities.  At  the  end  of  the  XIX  Century  it  had 
already  become  quite  clear,  that  at  the  first  opportunity 
the  leaders  of  the  groups  just  then  awakened  to  their 
national  consciousness  would  search  for  support  out- 
side of  Russia  against  that  policy  of  bureaucratic  cen- 
tralization. 

Such  are  the  chief  factors,  deeply  rooted  in  history, 
which  were  bound  to  come  to  the  fore  in  any  serious 
outbreak.  A  kind  of  spontaneous  anarchy  amongst 


REVOLUTION  COULD  NOT  BE  AVERTED  17 

the  masses  kept  in  a  state  of  passive  submission  by  a 
regime  of  force;  the  decaying  power  of  a  privileged 
class  doomed  to  perdition  and  depending,  for  its  salva- 
tion, on  the  equally  decaying  power  of  the  autocracy; 
the  theoretical  maximalism  of  the  revolutionary  intel- 
lectuals, inclined  to  Utopian  solutions,  with  no  politi- 
cal experience  to  back  them ;  and,  finally,  the  separatist 
strivings  of  intellectual  leaders  of  national  minorities: 
those  are  special  features  of  any  Russian  revolution. 

We  now  know  why  a  Revolution  was  likely  to  come 
and  what  its  character  was  bound  to  be  in  Russia.  But 
the  question  remains  to  be  answered,  just  why  and  when 
had  it  become  unavoidable? 

A  revolution  always  becomes  unavoidable  when  im- 
portant and  vital  reforms  are  impeded  by  an  authority 
which  has  lost  its  moral  prestige  and  has  become  power- 
less to  suppress  a  growing  and  universal  disaffection 
among  the  masses. 

We  know  what  were  the  important  and  vital  re- 
forms impeded  by  the  Government.  Two  of  them  had 
become  especially  urgent:  the  substitution  of  a  popu- 
lar constitutional  regime  for  the  patriarchal  one  and 
the  transfer  of  the  land  from  the  decaying  privileged 
class  to  the  rural  democracy. 

It  was  also  universally  known  what  was  the  chief 
obstacle  in  the  path  of  these  reforms.  They  were  op- 
posed by  a  political  alliance  of  the  two  forces  whose 
interests  were  equally  menaced  by  both  reforms.  Au- 
tocracy was  menaced  by  the  former;  landed  aristoc- 
racy was  menaced  by  the  latter.  We  know  what  were 
the  poisonous  fruits  of  this  fatal  alliance.  It  was  the 
sham  constitution  of  1906  and  the  antiquated  electoral 
system  of  1907. 

As  to  the  moral  prestige  of  the  dynasty,  it  was  defi- 


18       RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

nitely  undermined  by  the  court  life  and  the  court 
scandals.  The  Tsarina,  the  "German,"  was  positively 
disliked  by  the  masses,  and  she  was  generally  consid- 
ered to  be  the  evil  genius  of  the  Tsar.  The  comparison 
with  Marie  Antoinette  was  on  everybody's  lips. 

There  remained  physical  force,  for  the  regime  to  live 
upon.  That  force  seemed  to  be  overwhelmingly  strong 
and  invincible,  no  match  for  the  weak  forces  of  politi- 
cal opposition.  The  only  thing  that  could  disarm  the 
autocracy  was  an  unsuccessful  war.  That  war  came. 

In  1905  the  autocracy  received  a  first  warning. 
After  the  defeat  in  the  Russo-Japanese  War,  the  situa- 
tion was  favorable  for  a  revolution.  And  Russia  actu- 
ally passed  through  the  initial  stages  of  a  Revolution. 
That  first  Revolution  failed  for  many  reasons.  The 
opposition  forces  were  scattered.  They  had  just  be- 
gun to  organize,  but  as  soon  as  they  got  their  first  vic- 
tory, the  October  Manifesto,  they  turned  to  fight  each 
other.  The  dynasty  was  saved  by  the  skillful  maneu- 
vering of  a  self-made  politician,  Count  Witte.  Count 
Witte  knew  how  to  divide  the  forces  of  the  opposition, 
and  played  them  against  each  other,  thus  protracting 
the  struggle  until  the  Russian  Army  came  back  from 
the  Far  East  and  a  loan  was  given  to  the  Tsar  by 
France.  Autocracy  had  money  and  armed  force.  The 
Government  then  felt  free  to  deal  a  decisive  blow  to  the 
first  Russian  representative  Chamber. 

In  1917  circumstances  were  much  more  favorable 
for  a  revolutionary  outbreak  to  prove  successful.  There 
was  no  Witte,  to  save  the  Tsar.  The  moral  and  physi- 
cal exhaustion  and  destruction,  brought  about  by  an 
unprecedented  World  War,  was  by  far  deeper  than  in 
1904-5.  The  revolutionary  forces  were  much  better 
prepared  and  united,  as  a  result  of  the  first  decade  of 


REVOLUTION  COULD  NOT  BE  AVERTED  19 

the  working  of  political  representation.  What  did  the 
autocracy  have  to  oppose  to  all  this?  Nothing  besides 
a  stubborn  and  blind  resistance  to  the  slightest  conces- 
sion, on  the  part  of  the  Tsar's  misguided  and  foolish 
advisers. 

Revolution  had  become  unavoidable  as  early  as  the 
Autumn  of  1915.  Already  at  the  beginning  of  that 
year  the  military  unpreparedness  of  Russia  had  be- 
come so  manifest  and  the  Army  had  had  to  suffer  such 
serious  defeats,  for  no  fault  of  its  own,  that  public 
opinion  was  roused  against  the  Government.  The  pub- 
lic asked  for  prompt  measures  to  follow  the  lead  of 
Lloyd  George  and  Albert  Thomas.  The  Duma  made 
itself  the  mouthpiece  of  public  opinion.  For  the  last 
time  the  opposition  tried  to  give  the  Tsar  a  chance 
and  to  extend  to  him  a  plank  of  salvation.  I  was  my- 
self responsible  for  building  an  emergency  majority 
in  the  Duma,  which  we  called  the  "progressive  bloc," 
although  it  was  more  than  moderate  in  its  platform. 
We  wanted  the  Tsar  to  form  a  Cabinet  which  would 
"enjoy  the  confidence  of  the  country."  The  Tsar  would 
not  listen  to  any  hint  at  concessions.  Moreover,  he 
removed  from  office,  one  by  one,  all  his  Ministers  who, 
without  being  liberal,  felt  the  necessity  of  concessions 
and  were  favorable  to  the  compromise  proposed  by  the 
"progressive  bloc." 

The  chasm  was  now  (in  August,  1915)  wide  open 
and  was  no  more  to  be  bridged.  Under  the  growing 
pressure  of  more  radical  political  groups,  the  moderate 
proposals  made  by-  the  "bloc"  had  to  be  withdrawn. 
Public  opinion  asked  now  for  a  parliamentary  system 
based  on  the  principle  of  responsibility  of  the  Cabinet 
before  the  House.  For  the  Tsar  this  demand  was 
equivalent  to  asking  for  a  Republic. 


20      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Weak  and  indecisive  by  nature,  Nicholas  II  fell  com- 
pletely under  the  influence  of  his  hysterical  wife.  The 
Tsarina  insisted  that  no  concessions  should  be  granted. 
In  her  own  way,  she  came  to  the  conclusion  that  Louis 
XVI  and  Marie  Antoinette  had  perished  just  for  hav- 
ing yielded  too  much  to  the  popular  wishes.  Her  un- 
yielding temper  was  still  more  stiffened  by  a  mystical 
idea  that  she  was  following  God's  orders.  The  Tsar 
and  the  Tsarina  both  listened  to  the  voice  from  above, 
borne  to  them  by  the  notorious  Rasputin.  This  illiter- 
ate peasant  profited  by  their  superstition,  to  threaten 
them  with  the  Almighty's  wrath  should  they  not  follow 
his  advice. 

His  advice  was  that  the  Tsar  should  go  to  the  Army 
and  invest  himself  with  the  power  and  the  dignity  of 
Commander-in-Chief.  Everybody  thought  it  ex- 
tremely dangerous  for  the  Tsar  to  make  himself  per- 
sonally responsible  for  the  coming  defeats,  which  grew 
more  than  probable.  But  the  Tsar  followed  the  voice 
from  above,  and  he  played  a  pitiful  figure  at  the  head- 
quarters of  General  Alexeiev.  In  the  meanwhile,  the 
Tsarina,  who  remained  at  her  Petrograd  residence,  re- 
ceived the  reports  of  the  Ministers,  retained  in  office 
such  as  pleased  her,  replaced  others  with  her  favorites, 
all  of  them  quite  insignificant  personalities  who  came 
and  passed  like  shadows.  Rasputin's  protection  could 
be  bought  by  any  one  who  wished  it,  for  money,  and  a 
gang  of  courtiers  formed  itself  in  order  to  exploit  Ras- 
putin's influence  for  getting  pecuniary  benefits.  In 
addition  to  being  hated,  the  Government  was  now  de- 
spised by  everybody.  It  no  longer  inspired  any  fear. 

The  Tsar's  family,  the  Grand  Dukes,  who  saw  the 
approaching  downfall  of  their  dynasty,  tried  to  draw 
the  attention  of  the  Tsar  to  the  risk  he  and  they  were 


REVOLUTION  COULD  NOT  BE  AVERTED  21 

running.  It  was  of  no  avail.  To  receive  a  hearing 
from  the  Tsar  was  difficult,  but  to  have  a  talk  with 
him  on  such  unpleasant  matters  as  called  for  decisive 
action  on  his  part,  was  fully  impossible.  He  would  not 
listen  to  the  advice,  or,  in  case  the  informant  should 
insist  too  much  on  his  point,  he  would  turn  his  back 
on  him  and — which  was  his  favorite  gesture  on  such 
occasions — would  impatiently  drum  his  fingers  against 
the  glass  of  a  window. 

It  looked  as  if,  in  his  innermost  recesses,  he  knew 
what  was  coming,  but  felt  unable  to  grapple  with  the 
danger, — and  as  if  in  advance  he  had  decided  to  submit 
to  his  fate.  In  the  face  of  the  obviously  approaching 
catastrophe,  he  preserved  a  passive  attitude.  This,  of 
course,  helped  to  increase  the  danger.  The  most  faith- 
ful servants  of  the  Tsar,  noting  his  passiveness,  lost 
courage  and  let  things  take  their  course.  The  heads  of 
the  Army  were  quite  prepared  to  back  the  coming 
overthrow.  General  Alexeiev  had  even  decided  to  ar- 
rest the  Tsarina  at  the  time  of  her  visit  to  his  head- 
quarters. His  sudden  illness  alone  prevented  him  from 
trying  in  this  way  to  escape  from  an  extremely  strained 
situation.  At  any  rate,  in  this  way  or  another,  every- 
body felt  that  some  change  had  to  come.  In  mid-De- 
cember, 1916,  a  group  of  the  Tsar's  relatives,  with  the 
aid  of  the  most  reactionary  of  the  Duma  deputies, 
killed  Rasputin.  But  as  the  Tsar  remained  inactive, 
everybody  felt  that  this  was  not  at  all  a  solution.  Then, 
a  group  of  prominent  personalities,  including  General 
Krimov  and  an  influential  member  of  the  Duma,  de- 
cided to  resort  to  a  military  conspiracy  of  the  guards, 
in  order  to  imprison  the  Tsar.  The  conspirators  pre- 
pared to  act  at  the  beginning  of  March,  1917.  But,  a 
few  days  before  that  time,  the  stroke  came  from  below, 


22      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

in  the  form  of  an  uprising  of  workmen  and  of  some  regi- 
ments of  the  Petrograd  Garrison.  It  was  neither  a 
court  conspiracy  nor  a  military  pronunciamento 
which  deprived  the  Tsar  of  his  throne.  It  happened 
to  be  a  popular  upheaval.  The  Revolution — hoped  for 
by  some,  feared  by  many,  foreseen  by  all — had  finally 
become  an  actuality. 


CHAPTER  II. 

WHY  THE  BOLSHEVIKS  GOT  THE 
UPPER  HAND. 

In  1917,  we  had  two  revolutions:  that  of  March,  and 
that  of  November.  We  may  call  the  first — a  national 
revolution.  The  second  was  international. 

In  March  all  parts  of  the  nation  and  all  political 
groups — even  the  conservative  ones — united  in  one 
common  effort  to  defeat  their  common  enemy — the 
autocracy.  Just  why  were  the  conservative  groups 
against  the  autocratic  regime?  This  is  explained  by 
the  exceptional  conditions  of  war  time.  The  ancient 
regime  once  more  (after  the  Crimean  and  the  Japanese 
defeat)  proved  unable  to  provide  for  the  national  de- 
fense. Both  the  conservative  and  the  liberal  groups 
of  public  opinion  were  unanimous  in  concluding  that 
no  victory  in  war  was  possible  for  Russia  as  long  as 
the  methods  of  autocracy  were  applied  to  the  struggle. 
This  was  the  motive  which  led  both  moderate  and  con- 
servative groups  to  endorse  the  revolutionary  move- 
ment. 

This  was  also  the  reason  why  the  Duma — conserva- 
tive as  it  was  in  its  majority — was  ready  and  willing  to 
cover  with  its  authority  the  military  insurrection  of 
March  11  in  Petrograd.  The  consent  of  the  Duma  at 
that  moment  was  essential  for  the  initial  success  of 
the  Revolution.  If  there  had  been  no  Duma  to  lead 

23 


24      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

the  movement,  the  responsible  leaders  of  the  army, 
such  as  General  Alexeiev  or  Russki,  would  never  have 
taken  sides  with  the  revolutionaries.  The  Tsar  would 
not  have  been  induced  to  abdicate  so  soon  and  so 
easily.  A  struggle  would  have  begun  on  the  very  next 
day,  in  which  the  extreme  elements  alone  and,  per- 
haps, some  parts  of  the  Petrograd  garrison  would  have 
fought  on  the  side  of  the  Revolution.  They  probably 
would  soon  have  been  isolated  and  defeated. 

That  is  why  the  Russian  reactionary  groups  are  per- 
fectly right  to  hold  the  Duma  leaders  responsible  for 
the  success  of  the  Revolution.  It  would  be  wrong  and 
not  honorable  for  the  moderate  elements  of  the  Duma 
to  deny  their  share  of  responsibility  now  that  the  revo- 
lutionary movement  has  taken  to  the  path  which  they 
could  not  foresee  and  were  unable  to  approve  and  to 
follow.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  also  not  right  on  the 
part  of  the  extremists  to  minimize  or  to  deny  at  all 
the  role  of  the  Duma  in  what  they  consider  to  be  their 
Revolution. 

After  the  glorious  days  of  the  "bloodless"  Revolution 
of  March,  there  followed  another  Revolution  which 
cannot  be  called  national.  For  all  purposes,  this  sec- 
ond stage  of  the  Revolution,  the  Bolshevist  revolution 
of  November  7,  1917,  was  opposed  to  the  former  one. 
It  claimed  to  be  international,  as  its  basic  principle  was 
a  universal  uprising  of  one  single  class,  the  working 
men,  the  "proletarians,"  against  all  governments  and 
all  other  social  classes,  all  over  the  world.  Russia  was 
to  be  used  only  as  a  stepping  stone  for  that  universal 
conflagration.  The  "communist"  doctrine  of  the  Bol- 
shevist revolution  was  a  combined  product  of  Marx' 
theory,  Mr.  Lenin's  comment  on  it  and  the  latest  syn- 
dicalist teachings:  i.e.,  it  was  also  preeminently  inter- 


WHY  BOLSHEVIKS  GOT  UPPER  HAND  25 

national.  Moreover,  the  chief  leaders  of  the  Bolshev- 
ist revolution  had  just  come  back  to  Russia  from 
abroad,  from  Geneva,  Paris,  London,  New  York,  and 
they  knew  much  more  about  the  international  socialist 
movement  than  about  Russian  realities. 

On  the  face  of  it,  the  Bolshevist  revolution  of  No- 
vember 7  seemed  to  be  too  much  Utopian,  to  be  able 
to  succeed.  How  could  Russia, — an  economically  back- 
ward country,  which  only  a  few  decades  before  had  en- 
tered its  industrial  stage,  and  which  still  remained 
essentially  agricultural, — how  could  such  a  country  be 
converted  to  socialism?  Should  it  really  happen, 
would  it  not  be  equivalent  to  a  refutation  of  Marx' 
doctrine?  According  to  Marx,  only  such  countries 
which  have  passed  through  the  stage  of  capitalism,  in 
its  most  developed  form,  can  be  lifted  to  a  "commun- 
ist" stage. 

We  shall  see  later  on,  that  the  Bolsheviks  knew  all 
these  arguments  perfectly  well.  But  we  shall  also  see 
that  they  never  intended  to  introduce  communism  in 
Russia.  The  November  revolution  was  to  be  a  revolu- 
tion not  for  Russia's  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  world 
revolution.  Russia  was  a  means,  not  an  aim  in  itself. 
Accordingly,  the  Bolsheviks  only  wished  to  make  use 
of  Russia  for  the  period  necessary  to  start  revolution- 
ary outbreaks  in  real  capitalistic  countries.  They  did 
not  think  that  period  would  last  long,  and  their  only 
ambition,  in  the  beginning,  was  to  beat  the  record  of 
the  Paris  Commune  of  1871.  However,  the  reality  de- 
feated all  forecasts.  The  "communist"  revolution  of 
November,  1917,  proved  a  much  greater  success  than 
the  national  revolution  of  March.  The  last  of  the 
four  governments  of  the  national  Revolution  was  over- 
thrown after  eight  months'  duration.  The  Bolshevist 


26      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

government  has  now  lasted  for  more  than  four  years. 
How  is  it  possible  that  the  revolution  which  seemed  by 
everybody  failed  so  soon  while  the  extremist,  the  Uto- 
pian, the  class  revolution  appears  to  be  so  lasting? 

A  complete  answer  will  be  given  in  the  course  of 
these  chapters.  But  I  must  warn  the  reader  right  now 
not  to  be  misled  by  their  Bolshevik  slogans.  The 
"communist"  revolution  of  November,  1917,  is  only 
a  part  of  a  long  and  complicated  process.  No  "com- 
munism" was  inaugurated  by  it  in  Russia,  and  the  Bol- 
sheviks themselves  had  to  adapt  themselves  to  Russian 
realities  in  order  to  be  able  to  exist.  It  was  the  con- 
tinuation of  the  general  process  of  revolution  which 
was  secured  by  the  Bolshevist  victory:  it  was  only  a 
new  stage  which  was  thus  opened.  Accordingly,  it  is 
not  the  surface  change  of  Governments,  and  not  even 
the  change  in  their  tactics,  but  the  continuity  of  that 
great  principal  stream  of  revolutionary  transformation 
of  Russia  which  is  really  important  and  which  must 
draw  our  particular  attention. 

It  is  not  only  a  struggle  between  leaders  of  political 
parties,  between  their  programs  and  methods,  that  we 
are  now  passing  through  in  Russia.  It  is  a  real  revo- 
lution. 

The  psychology  of  all  real  revolutions  is  the  same. 
They  develop  from  comparatively  moderate  to  more 
advanced  and  extreme  tendencies,  as  soon  as  the  move- 
ment passes  from  the  leading  groups  to  unorganized 
masses.  A  revolution  is  not  only  a  dramatic  overthrow 
of  a  central  Government.  It  is  a  process,  a  changing 
state  of  mind  in  large  social  layers,  and  it  takes  time 
for  this  process  to  take  root  and  to  pass  through  all  its 
stages.  As  long  as  that  internal  process  in  the  social 


WHY  BOLSHEVIKS  GOT  UPPER  HAND     27 

organism  has  not  run  its  inevitable  course,  the  revolu- 
tion is  bound  to  last  and  to  develop.  The  natural  end 
of  the  process  is — the  realization  of  the  claims  and  de- 
sires put  forward  by  the  masses  and  left  without  satis- 
faction by  the  social  and  political  forces  which  are 
destroyed  in  the  process  of  revolutionary  struggle. 

There  exists  a  sort  of  instinctive  fear  on  the  part  of 
the  masses,  lest  a  revolution  finish  too  early.  They 
feel  it  may  prove  abortive  if  the  victory  is  won  by 
the  moderate  elements  alone.  Whatever  be  the  names 
or  the  programs  of  the  political  parties,  the  masses  in 
the  state  of  revolution  always  choose  for  their  mouth- 
piece those  who  propose  the  most  extreme  solutions. 
On  the  contrary,  such  groups  as  intend  to  stop  the 
revolution  short  of  this  mark,  and  thus  seem  to  pre- 
clude the  prospects  of  its  possible  achievements,  soon 
become  suspected  of  "counter-revolutionary"-  feelings 
and  are  thrown  aside  by  a  revolutionary  movement  in 
progress. 

However,  certain  incentives  are  necessary  to  bring 
that  revolutionary  psychology  in  motion.  The  first 
impression  concerning  the  Russian  Revolution  is  that 
there  were  in  Russia  no  such  motives  for  the  revolu- 
tionary movement  to  evolve,  as  we  find  them  in  the 
great  French  Revolution.  To  begin  with,  there  was  no 
struggle  for  or  against  the  royal  power.  The  Tsar 
abdicated  at  once,  and  his  successor  refused  to  ascend 
the  throne  pending  the  decision  of  the  Constituent 
Assembly.  There  was  thus  no  actual  struggle  for  or 
against  the  prerogative,  as  was  the  case  under  the  Con- 
stituent Assembly  of  the  French  Revolution.  Such 
political  groups  as  remained  monarchists  kept  silent 
and  did  not  take  part  in  the  movement.  All  parties — 


28      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

even  conservative  ones — which  were  working  in  the 
limelight  of  politics,  became  formally  Republican. 
Again,  there  was  no  fear  of  foreign  invasion,  no  fear  of 
outsiders  who  might  come  and  join  hands  with  the 
hidden  monarchist  groups,  as  was  the  case  under  the 
National  Assembly  and  the  Convention.  There  were 
no  emigrants  to  insist  on  foreign  intervention.  All  this 
appeared  after  November,  under  the  class  Revolution, 
and  it  explains  the  continuation  of  the  process  during 
the  past  four  years.  But  in  its  first  stage  the  "blood- 
less" Russian  Revolution  had  no  visible  enemy,  either 
"internal"  or  "external." 

And  yet,  in  spite  of  all  that,  there  were  certain 
groups  to  which  the  term  "counter-revolutionary"  was 
already  applied.  The  danger  of  a  "counter-revolution" 
in  Russia  was  used  as  a  pretext  for  pushing  to  the  front 
the  so-called  "revolutionary  democracy."  Was  it  a 
fictitious  enemy,  an  imaginary  danger?  Was  it  a  mere 
invention  of  the  demagogues,  in  order  to  frighten  the 
masses?  Or  was  the  danger  real? 

In  order  to  answer  these  questions,  let  us  analyze  the 
situation  as  it  was  between  the  two  Revolutions  of 
March  and  of  November.  There  were  three  groups 
particularly  active  on  the  revolutionary  stage: 

1.  The  "bourgeois'  parties,  represented  chiefly  by  the  ad- 
vanced groups  of  the  I3uma,  by  the  more  conservative  com- 
mercial and  industrial  group,  and,  at  the  background,  by 
some  military  organizations  with  a  tendency  to  reaction. 

2.  The  moderate  socialists,  divided  in  two  currents:  the 
agrarian  socialists  (Social-Revolutionaries)  and  the  prole- 
tarian socialists   (Social-Democrats  of  the  Marxist  type), 
the  so-called  "Mensheviks." 

3.  The  international  extremists,  working  for  the  world 
revolution,  the  so-called  "Bolsheviks";  and  some  few  So- 
cial-Revolutionaries of  the  extreme  left  wing. 


WHY  BOLSHEVIKS  GOT  UPPER  HAND     29 

The  first  two  groups,  in  the  process  of  the  struggle 
which  was  now  going  on,  fell  victims  of  their  modera- 
tion— and  also  of  their  internal  contradictions.  The 
third  group — the  Bolshevist — was  much  more  consist- 
ent with  itself,  and  much  more  accessible  for  the  popu- 
lar understanding,  and  it  finally  won  the  game. 

What  were  the  contradictions  under  which  the  Duma 
groups  labored?  In  the  first  place,  there  was  the  con- 
tradiction between  the  great  reputation  the  Duma  en- 
joyed in  the  country, — and  which  made  it  play  a  prom- 
inent part  at  the  beginning  of  the  Revolution, — and 
its  real  political  insignificance.  The  fourth  Duma 
was  elected  in  1912  under  a  very  strong  electoral 
pressure  of  the  Government,  whose  aim  was  to  form 
a  majority  ready  to  restore  autocracy.  This  aim  was 
not  attained,  and  the  Duma  had  no  governmental 
majority.  But  at  the  same  it  did  not  have 
any  other  majority.  The  reputation  for  liberalism  was 
won  by  the  opposition  minority  alone  and  it  did  not 
correspond  to  the  general  spirit  of  the  House.  The 
Duma  as  a  whole  was  thus  unable  to  lead  the  Revolu- 
tion. At  the  moment  of  the  revolutionary  outbreak, 
on  that  very  day  of  March  11, — and  without  any  con- 
nection whatever  with  the  Revolution, — the  Duma  was 
prorogued  by  order  of  the  Tsar.  Contrary  to  the  ac- 
cepted legend,  the  Duma  never  ^tended  to  stay.  It 
obeyed  the  order.  The  Duma's  Committee,  which  had 
been  selected  on  that  day  and  which  a  couple  of  days 
later  nominated  the  first  Provisional  Government,  had 
not  been  chosen  at  a  formal  meeting  of  the  Duma,  act- 
ing as  an  institution.  The  election  took  place  at  an 
informal  meeting  which  met  privately  in  a  room  con- 
tiguous to  the  "White  Hall"  of  regular  sessions.  Thus, 
the  Provisional  Government  took  its  sanction  not  from 


30      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

any  legal  authority  of  pre-Revolutionary  times,  but 
from  Revolution.  In  a  certain  sense,  this  strengthened 
its  power  while  it  was  functioning.  But  it  also  made  it 
dependent  on  other  manifestations,  however  irregular, 
of  the  "popular  will."  The  Duma  itself  ceased  to  exist, 
as  a  political  agent,  from  the  moment  of  its  proroga- 
tion. Its  members  did  not  resign  their  mandates, 
which  expired  in  due  time,  in  the  autumn  of  1917; 
but  they  only  held  a  few  private  meetings,  and  their 
written  declaration  had  no  influence  on  the  events. 

After  the  disappearance  of  the  Duma,  the  only 
"bourgeois"  party  which  continued  to  exist  was  the 
Party  of  the  People's  Freedom  (Constitutional-Demo- 
crats or  Cadets).  The  Party  was  democratic  and  had 
its  following  among  the  burgesses  and  the  peasants  in 
Northeastern  Russia  (free  from  the  institution  of  serf- 
dom, which  in  other  parts  of  Russia  was  abolished 
only  in  1861).  But,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  no  real  demo- 
cratic party  could  possibly  exist  in  Russia  under  the 
sham  constitutional  regime  of  1907-1917.  All  requi- 
sites for  organizing  the  masses  were  lacking.  Autocracy 
is  thus  greatly  responsible  for  the  absence  of  good 
political  guidance,  and,  as  a  result,  for  the  chaotic  and 
elemental  development  of  the  revolutionary  process. 
All  political  parties,  either  bourgeois  or  socialistic  were 
equally  handicapped  in  their  attempts  to  reach  and  to 
instruct  the  popular  masses.  The  Constitutional- 
Democratic  Party  (which  declared  itself  Republican  in 
May,  1917)  was  chiefly  composed  of  intellectuals  and 
enjoyed  great  moral  authority.  Most  of  the  "bour- 
geois" ministers  of  the  four  provisional  Governments 
between  March  and  November  belonged  to  that  Party. 
They  worked  in  a  coalition  with  moderate  socialists — 
especially,  the  agrarian  socialists  (Social-Revolution- 


WHY  BOLSHEVIKS  GOT  UPPER  HAND     31 

aries).  Of  course,  there  was  nothing  "counter-revolu- 
tionary" about  them.  But  the  masses  which  now  were 
coming  to  the  forefront  did  not  know  them.  They  con- 
founded them  with  other  "bourgeois"  groups  of  the 
Duma  and  were  quite  prepared  to  believe  extremist 
demagogues  who  called  them  "capitalists"  and  "im- 
perialists." The  very  fact  of  their  participation  in  the 
revolutionary  Cabinets  was  sufficient  to  discredit  the 
Government  in  the  eyes  of  the  masses. 

But  there  were  other  reasons  which  made  the  task 
of  the  demagogues  still  easier.  The  "Cadets"  wanted 
the  great  changes  in  the  social  and  political  life  of  Rus- 
sia which  were  looked  for  by  the  masses  to  be  enacted 
in  a  legal  way,  by  regular  legislation  passed  by  a 
legally  summoned  Constituent  Assembly.  It  was, 
however,  not  easy  to  prepare  for  elections  on  the  new 
basis  of  universal  suffrage  in  such  a  country  as  Russia. 
The  "Cadets"  found  it  necessary,  for  technical  as  well 
as  for  political  reasons,  to  postpone  general  elections 
until  local  elections  for  new  democratic  organs  of  pro- 
vincial self-government  (the  renewed  "Zemstvos") 
had  taken  place  on  the  same  principle  of  universal  suf- 
frage. This  was  the  only  way  to  secure  the  controlling 
machine  for  really  free  and  democratic  elections.  But 
under  the  conditions  of  growing  mistrust  and  excite- 
ment, on  the  basis  of  social  hatred  fomented  by  the 
demagogues,  it  was  really  dangerous  thus  to  postpone 
the  session  of  the  Constituent  Assembly.  The  masses 
were  unwilling  to  wait  for  its  decisions  on  such  capital 
questions  as  agrarian  reform,  or  workingmen's  control 
of  factories.  The  revolutionary  groups  did  not  want  to 
wait  for  the  Constituent  Assembly  to  decide  upon  the 
form  of  Government.  It  was  easy  to  declare  "counter- 
revolutionary" every  one  who  was  suspected  of  desiring 


32      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

the  postponement  of  such  decisions.  And  it  was  a  mis- 
take on  the  part  of  the  moderate  groups  not  to  pay 
enough  attention  to  the  consequences  of  their  con- 
scientious but  dilatory  methods. 

I  do  not  know  whether  I  must  call  a  "mistake"  an- 
other feature  of  moderate  tactics,  which  proved  still 
more  dangerous.  I  mean  their  views  on  War  and  For- 
eign Politics.  They  wanted  the  war  to  be  carried  to 
the  end  in  agreement  with  the  Allies.  They  thought 
it  dishonest  and  mean  to  think  of  separate  peace,  and 
they  knew  that  they  were  unable  to  persuade  the 
Allies  to  conclude  a  "peace  without  victory."  This 
proved  to  be  the  weakest  point  in  the  program  of  the 
Provisional  Governments.  Russia  was  reaching  the 
limit  of  weariness  and  exhaustion.  Even  before  the 
Revolution  the  Army  had  become  impatient  and  un- 
willing to  fight  any  longer.  After  the  Revolution  a 
new  incentive  was  added  for  the  soldiers  to  go  back  to 
their  homes  as  soon  as  they  could.  Rumor  had  it  that 
partition  of  the  land  was  to  be  the  first  result  of  a 
democratic  and  really  popular  revolution.  The  soldier 
—who  was  also  a  peasant — would  not  wait  for  the  solu- 
tion of  his  special  problem,  not  only  until  the«Constitu- 
tional  Assembly  met;  he  would  not  wait  at  all, 
fearing  lest  his  neighbor  in  the  village  return  first 
and  profit  by  his  absence  in  order  to  take  the  best- lots 
and  more  than  his  share.  At  any  cost,  he  had  to  be 
back  for  the  moment  of  partition — a  moment  longed 
for  by  so  many  generations  of  his  ancestors. 

To  be  sure,  it  meant  expecting  too  much  from  the 
degree  of  civic  education  of  the  Russian  peasant — to 
ask  him  first  to  fight  on  to  the  bitter  end,  with  the  risk 
of  being  killed,  and  then  to  await  the  decision  of  a 
Constituent  Assembly  on  that  momentous  question  of 


WHY  BOLSHEVIKS  GOT  UPPER  HAND     33 

land.  He  readily  believed  his  "true"  friends  who  told 
him  to  stop  fighting,  because  it  was  the  French  and 
British  "capitalists"  and  "imperialists"  who  wanted 
him  to  shed  Russian  blood  for  their  colonies.  From  the 
other  side  of  the  front  he  heard  the  same  thing  re- 
peated by  Russian  newspapers  printed  in  Berlin  and 
smuggled  into  the  Russian  trenches.  German  soldiers 
in  front  of  him  treated  him  to  Russian  "vodka,"  and 
German  "schnaps,"  and  they  invited  him  to  fraternize 
and  to  make  peace  directly,  at  that  very  point  of  the 
front,  and  then  go  home  instead  of  allowing  himself 
to  be  shot  at  the  very  moment  when  the  long  expected 
lot  of  land  was  waiting  for  him  in  his  village. 

On  the  contrary,  the  "capitalist"  and  "bourgeois" 
ministers  declared  themselves  faithful  to  the  Allied 
agreements  and  forced  him  to  fight  on.  He  now  knew 
who  were  his  friends  and  his  enemies,  how  to  choose 
between  them  and  whom  to  follow. 

Before  I  speak  of  the  attitude  of  the  second  group  of 
moderate  socialists,  let  us  look  at  the  other  pole  of 
Russian  political  life:  that  third  group  of  Russian  ex- 
tremists who  were  ready  to  make  use  of  this  state  of 
mind  of  the  Russian  soldier,  which  they  had  long  be- 
fore foreseen.  Since  1905  and  1906 — the  years  of  the 
first  Russian  Revolution — they  were  always  on  the 
alert  for  some  new  war  to  come,  in  order  to  repeat  their 
experiment  that  had  failed.  International  socialism 
was  then  planning  a  universal  international  strike  in 
the  event  of  a  declaration  of  war.  Such  also  were  the 
decisions  of  the  international  congresses  at  Stuttgart, 
in  1907,  and  at  Basel,  in  1912.  But  there  was  a  small 
group  of  revolutionary  internationalists  which  decided 
to  go  further  than  this.  This  group  included  Russian 
revolutionaries  who  had  fled  from  Russia  after  the 


34      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

failure  of  their  first  attempt  to  revolutionize  Russia: 
both  Lenin  and  Trotsky.  Lenin's  personal  view  was 
that  the  "revolutionary  vanguard"  which  was  generally 
expected  to  abolish  the  State  in  order  to  promote  com- 
munism, had  rather  preserve  State  institutions  and  use 
them  as  a  ready  weapon  of  violence  and  repression. 
Instead  of  resorting  to  problematic  strikes,  Lenin's 
scheme  was  to  immediately  take  the  State  power  in 
the  hands  of  the  proletariat  and  to  hasten  the  advent 
of  socialism  by  means  of  the  State  machinery. 

War  was  included  in  that  scheme,  not  as  an  inci- 
dental agent,  but  as  its  necessary  component  part.  Ac- 
cording to  the  doctrine,  war  was  sure  to  come,  as  a 
consequence  of  the  normal  working  of  the  capitalist 
system.  War  had  to  create  what  they  called  a  "revo- 
lutionary situation."  It  remained  for  the  socialists  to 
make  use  of  that  revolutionary  situation  in  order  to 
transform  war  in  the  trenches,  between  the  states,  into 
international  civil  war  between  the  classes. 

At  the  very  beginning  of  the  World  War,  hi  1914,  this 
scheme  was  formally  discussed  in  Lenin's  Swiss  organ, 
The  Social-Democrat.  At  the  same  time  Trotsky 
and  Martov,  in  Paris,  took  part  in  similar  discussions 
of  a  small  circle  which  met  every  evening  at  a  small 
shop  called  "Librairie  du  Travail."  All  the  future 
leaders  of  French  extremism  were  there:  Monette, 
Guilbeaux,  Rosmer,  the  poet  Martinet,  Merrheim.  The 
group  felt  rather  isolated  amidst  the  first  outbreaks  of 
national  feeling,  which  found  its  political  expression  in 
the  "Sacred  Union"  of  the  socialists  with  the  bourgeois 
parties.  But  they  were  very  proud  of  having  remained 
faithful  to  the  pure  doctrine  in  the  midst  of  the  col- 
lapse of  the  "Second  International."  "A  kind  of  grim 
satisfaction  remained  to  us,"  one  of  them  said,  "to  be 


WHY  BOLSHEVIKS  GOT  UPPER  HAND     35 

the  first  men  in  Paris  who  belonged  to  a  future  Inter- 
national ...  At  this  small  hearth  the  spark  of  Zim- 
merwald  was  kindled." 

And,  indeed,  this  was  the  modest  beginning  of  the 
Third  International  of  Moscow.  Not  only  such  "so- 
cial patriots"  as  voted  military  credits  and  entered 
war  cabinets  were  severely  denounced  by  the  new  cur- 
rent, even  people  like  Kautsky — the  so-called  "cen- 
ter"— were  branded  as  traitors  to  the  cause  of  social- 
ism. A  new  International  was  to  be  formed  only  of 
such  groups — however  small — as  would  follow  the  lead 
of  Lenin  and  obey  his  orders. 

Thus,  Lenin  knew  perfectly  well  what  he  was  out 
for  when  he  first  came  to  Russia  through  Germany  in 
April,  1917.  He  was  probably  one  of  the  few  to  know 
it  and  to  have  in  his  mind  a  cut  and  dried  scheme  of 
what  was  to  be  accomplished  with  the  aid  of  the  Rus- 
sian Revolution. 

Let  us  now  come  back  to  the  second,  the  intermediate 
group  between  the  "bourgeois"  and  the  extremist. 
Clearness  of  view  was  not  exactly  its  distinctive  fea- 
ture. This  intermediate  current  was  composed  of  two 
moderate  socialist  groups:  chiefly  of  the  Social-Revo- 
lutionaries, whose  spokesman  was  Kerensky,  and$of  the 
Social-Democrats  (Mensheviks),  led  by  the  Georgian 
Deputy  Tsereteli.  They  knew  and  openly  admitted 
that  a  socialist  society  could  not  evolve  from  the  revo- 
lutionary movement.  They  agreed  that  the  only  aim 
realizable  for  the  moment,  was  a  stabilized  democracy 
in  the  form  of  a  bourgeois  Republic.  On  this  funda- 
mental point  they  shared  the  opinion -of  the  bourgeois 
parties.  That  is  why  up  to  the  end  they  wished — and 
they  succeeded — to  retain  the  power  in  the  hands  of  a 
coalition  of  moderate  socialist  and  advanced  bourgeois 


36      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

parties.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  they  were  unable  to 
break  definitely  with  their  extremist  fellow-socialists, 
and  at  all  crucial  moments  they  felt  themselves  closer 
to  them  than  to  their  "Cadet"  colleagues.  From  the 
very  beginning  of  the  Revolution  they  fell  under  the 
influence  of  the  extremist  slogans — sometimes  even 
without  knowing  their  real  purport.  For  example,  they 
called  themselves  Zimmerwaldians.  But  they  by  no 
means  were  willing  to  join  in  the  aim  of  transforming 
the  war  in  the  trenches  into  a  civil  war.  They  wanted 
an  immediate  peace  to  come,  and  they  severely  criti- 
cized the  "imperialist"  aims  of  the  "capitalist''  Allied 
Governments.  At  the  same  time  they  ranged  them- 
selves with  the  "socialist  patriotic"  ministers  of  the 
Allied  cabinets,  like  Albert  Thomas,  and  they  even  were 
induced  by  the  latter  to  "persuade"  the  demoralized 
Russian  army  to  start  on  an  offensive. 

Again,  they  did  not  wish  to  give  "all  power  to  the 
Soviets,"  which  was  then  the  Bolshevist  slogan.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  they  had  to  recognize  themselves 
responsible  before  the  Soviets,  as  revolutionary  organs, 
where  their  parties  were  represented.  They  thus  con- 
tributed to  the  weakening  of  the  Provisional  Govern- 
ments of  which  they  were  members.  They  claimed  to 
belong  to  the  "revolutionary  democracy" — a  vague 
term  which  embraced  such  groups  as  were  considered 
true  to  the  Revolution.  At  the  same  time,  they  were 
brought  to  search  for  allies  in  the  "bourgeois"  ranks, 
which  were  considered  by  that  same  "revolutionary  de- 
mocracy" as  being  hopelessly  "counter-revolutionary." 
They  relied  upon  the  Constituent  Assembly  to  decide 
all  fundamental  questions  put  forward  by  the  process 
of  Revolution.  On  the  other  hand,  they  obediently 
followed  in  the  trail  of  events  which  anticipated  these 


WHY  BOLSHEVIKS  GOT  UPPER  HAND     37 

decisions.  They  thus  officially  proclaimed  Russia  a 
Republic,  and  they  largely  contributed — in  a  semi- 
official way — to  the  passage  of  the  landed  estates  from 
the  nobles  to  the  peasants  by  encouraging  a  matter-of- 
fact  expropriation  which  was  covered  by  the  euphemis- 
tic term  "creating  new  revolutionary  law  by  the  peo- 
ple." 

The  extremists  made  ample  use  of  all  these  inconsist- 
encies and  contradictions.  The  moderate  socialists  pre- 
tended to  speak  and  to  act  in  the  name  of  the  people. 
Their  extremist  opponents  appealed  directly  to  the 
masses.  They  accused  the  moderate  socialists  of  mak- 
ing common  cause  with  the  "bourgeoisie"  and  the 
"capitalists."  It  was  enough  for  a  socialist  minister 
to  talk  reason  and  common  sense,  to  be  accused  of  trea- 
son towards  the  people.  Irresponsible  critics  were  free 
to  make  unrealizable  promises  and  thus  to  outbid  their 
ministerial  colleagues.  Very  soon  the  moderate  social- 
ists began  to  realize  the  success  of  the  Bolshevist  dem- 
agogy by  increasing  defections  from  their  own  ranks. 
Gradually  they  lost  ground  in  the  Soviets  and  the  Com- 
mittees of  the  Petrograd  workingmen  and  soldiers. 
They  had  to  retreat,  and  they  transferred  their  head- 
quarters to  the  Executive  Committee  of  the  All-Rus- 
sian Conference  of  the  Soviets,  where  provincial  groups 
which  had  remained  more  moderate  than  the  popula- 
tion of  the  capital  city  were  represented.  But  the 
enemy  found  his  way  even  there,  and,  as  a  last  refuge, 
the  moderate  socialists  resorted  to  a  selection  of  pro- 
vincial deputies  from  the  newly  created  democratic 
Zemstvos  and  Municipalities.  This  was  the  so-called 
"Democratic  Conference,"  which  also  proved  vacillat- 
ing and  uncertain. 

The  socialist  retreat  was  keenly  observed  by  the  ex- 


38      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

tremists,  who  were  soon  encouraged  to  try  decisive 
blows.  As  early  as  mid- July,  1917,  they  made  their 
first  attempt  at  an  uprising  in  Petrograd.  It  failed 
owing  to  the  help  which  the  moderate  socialists  re- 
ceived from  the  army  detachments,  speedily  sent  from 
the  front.  But  then  it  became  clear  that  the  final  de- 
cision lay  with  the  army,  and  not  with  representative 
assemblies  which  served  as  a  substitute  for  the  Con- 
stituent Assembly.  The  Bolsheviks  paid  special  at- 
tention to  and  made  efforts  to  win,  the  Petrograd  gar- 
rison, while  at  the  same  time  the  moderate  socialists 
quarrelled  with  the  army.  Thenceforth  their  fate  and 
the  fate  of  moderate  revolution  was  sealed. 

For  the  soldiers  Kerensky,  the  War  Minister,  was  an 
"imperialist"  who  forced  them  to  shed  then-  blood  for 
the  Allies.  And  they  answered  his  attempts  to  lead 
them  against  the  enemy  with  a  disgraceful  retreat.  On 
the  other  hand,  for  the  officers  Kerensky  was  a  weak- 
ling and  a  Utopian  who  precluded  the  possibility  of 
creating  a  strong  revolutionary  power  and  thus  im- 
periled the  further  existence  of  the  Russian  State. 
They  wanted  a  dictator,  and  they  found  their  dictator 
in  the  person  of  General  Kornilov.  Non-socialist 
groups,  which  saw  the  approaching  danger  of  a  final 
blow  by  the  extremists,  also  wished  to  prevent  it  with 
the  aid  of  the  sound  elements  of  the  army.  They  un- 
derstood only  too  well  that  the  danger  was  not  to  be 
conjured  away  by  mere  speeches  and  resolutions. 
Under  certain  conditions — the  first  and  the  most  im- 
portant was  to  make  common  front  against  the  ex- 
tremists— the  Revolution  might  still  have  been  saved 
from  its  own  excesses.  The  choice  was  free  for  a  time 
between  Kornilov  and  Lenin.  Unfortunately,  no  com- 
mon front  proved  to  be  possible  from  Kerensky  to 


WHY  BOLSHEVIKS  GOT  UPPER  HAND     39 

Kornilov,  and  by  a  sort  of  subconscious  instinct  the 
masses — because  it  was  the?  masses  that  decided — 
chose  Lenin. 

The  Kornilov  movement,  which  wound  up  in  an  in- 
surrection against  the  Government,  for  the  first  time 
revealed  the  existence  of  the  real  counter-revolutionary 
groups.  A  movement  which  could  only  win  as  a  na- 
tional movement,  took  the  shape  of  a  secret  conspir- 
acy led  by  adventurous  personalities  and  backed  by 
certain  reactionary  organizations.  As  a  result,  the 
story  of  Lafayette  and  Dumouriez  repeated  itself  in 
Russia.  Kornilov's  attempt  was  finally  repudiated 
even  by  his  adherents  and  sympathizers.  Instead  of 
strengthening  the  Revolutionary  power,  it  weakened 
the  central  non-socialist  groups,  isolated  the  Govern- 
ment and  paved  the  way  for  the  Bolshevist  coup 
d'etat. 

The  Bolsheviks  now  prepared  quite  openly  for  a 
new  stroke,  in  the  face  of  a  passive  Government.  At 
the  decisive  moment,  there  were  found  only  some  hun- 
dreds of  young  men  from  military  schools  and  women 
of  the  patriotic  "shock"  battalion,  to  defend  the  min- 
isters in  the  Winter  Palace.  Then  generals  at  the 
front  refused  their  help  to  Kerensky  and  500  Cossacks 
of  General  Krasnov  tried  in  vain  to  bring  him  back 
to  Petrograd.  Everybody  else  kept  quiet  and  the  Bol- 
sheviks won  an  easy  victory. 

However,  a  victory  in  Petrograd  did  not  yet  mean 
the  victory  in  Russia.  The  real  sanction  of  the  Bol- 
shevist coup  lay  in  the  fact  that  Bolshevism  at  the 
moment  of  its  victory  practically  met  with  no  resist- 
ance, with  the  exception  of  a  few  days'  fighting  in 
Moscow  and  the  opposition  it  met  with  in  the  land  of 
the  Don  Cossacks,  in  Southeastern  Russia.  The 


40      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

leaders  of  the  army,  partly  the  same  men  who  readily 
acknowledged  the  March  Revolution,  after  a  few  mo- 
ments of  hesitation  declared  themselves  on  the  side  of 
the  Bolsheviks.  Of  course,  they  were  forced  to  do  so 
through  fear  of  being  killed  by  their  soldiers.  But,  at 
the  same  time,  they  somehow  felt  satisfied  to  see 
Kornilov's  defeat  avenged.  Many  of  them  thought 
that  the  Bolshevist  regime  would  not  last  long  and  the 
time  would  soon  come  to  settle  their  accounts  with  the 
Russian  Revolution  in  general.  The  real  counter- 
revolutionary elements  thus  detached  themselves  from 
the  "bourgeois"  democracy  at  the  very  moment  when 
this  democracy  was  forced  to  yield  to  the  tyranny  of 
a  few.  It  was  not  the  first  time  that  the  two  ex- 
tremes, the  Red  and  the  Black,  came  together  and 
seemed  better  to  understand  each  other  than  their  op- 
ponents from  the  moderate  center.  Mr.  Lenin  is  said 
to  have  often  repeated,  that  in  the  event  of  being  forced 
to  go,  he  would  rather  surrender  to  restored  autocracy 
than  to  a  bourgeois  republic,  i.e.,  to  stabilized  democ- 
racy. 

Our  explanation  of  such  conditions  in  Russia  as  made 
the  Bolshevist  victory  unavoidable  would  not  be  com- 
plete should  we  fail  to  mention  the  internal  situation 
in  Russia,  created  by  war  and  revolution.  Russia  was 
made  ripe  for  the  Bolshevist  domination  by  its  process 
of  internal  dissolution,  which  preceded  the  Bolshevist 
coup.  I  shall  not  dwell  on  the  state  of  general  exhaus- 
tion and  slackening  of  moral  and  civil  discipline,  which 
is  an  outstanding  feature  of  the  post-war  situation  in 
all  the  belligerent  countries.  Let  us  rather  have  a  look 
at  the  specifically  Russian  phenomena  created  by  the 
Revolution. 

This  internal  dissolution  reflected  itself  first  in  the 


WHY  BOLSHEVIKS  GOT  UPPER  HAND  41 

complete  destruction  of  all  pre-revolutionary  authori- 
ties. From  the  very  first  days  of  the  March  Revolu- 
tion all  functionaries  of  the  former  Tsarist  administra- 
tion simply  disappeared,  beginning  with  the  upper 
ranks  and  down  to  the  lowest.  An  attempt  was  made 
by  Prince  Lvov,  the  Premier  and  Minister  of  the  In- 
terior, to  let  the  men  from  the  Zemstvos  take  the 
places  of  these  functionaries.  But  during  the  last  pe- 
riod of  the  self-defense  of  the  autocracy,  the  composi- 
tion of  these  organs  of  Russian  self-government  had 
very  much  deteriorated,  especially  after  the  reaction- 
ary electoral  reform  of  1890,  which  gave  all  power  to 
the  local  squires.  From  then  on,  the  masses  had  not 
made  much  distinction  between  the  Zemstvo  men  and 
the  Tsar's  officials:  to  them  they  were  equally  bad,  and 
sometimes  even  worse  than  bureaucrats.  That  is  why, 
this  new  personnel  of  the  local  administrations  had 
very  soon  to  yield  to  the  "Soviets"  or  other  self-ap- 
pointed organs  of  the  "revolutionary  democracy," 
whose  composition  and  functions  were  matters  of  their 
own  choice. 

They  were  like  as  many  small  republics,  each  acting 
at  their  own  will.  Unity  of  direction  was  completely 
lacking.  The  direct  result  was  that  the  whole  machin- 
ery of  communications  broke  down  at  once,  and  it  im- 
mediately reflected  itself  in  the  regularity  of  supplying 
the  army  at  the  front,  which  even  before  that  time  had 
been  far  from  being  in  good  order.  Very  soon  the 
cities  and  towns  also  began  to  suffer  from  a  shortage  of 
food.  Cases  of  real  famine  began  to  appear.  The  only 
resource  left  was  to  send  special  committees  to  the 
grain-  and  cattle-exporting  provinces  of  Russia,  in 
order  to  buy  food  at  the  source.  Private  persons  fol- 
lowed the  lead  of  public  institutions,  and  soon  all 


42      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

trains  were  packed  beyond  their  utmost  capacity  with 
a  new  type  of  passengers,  nicknamed  "sack-bearers"  and 
"speculators." 

But  this  was  only  a  prelude.  The  real  disaster  broke 
out  when  soldiers  began  to  desert  from  the  front.  It 
had  always  been  a  puzzle  to  the  military  authorities 
how  to  demobilize  these  millions  of  peasants  without 
destroying  communications  and  endangering  the  peace 
and  order  of  the  local  population.  Now  a  matter-of- 
fact  demobilization  began  without  any  general  scheme 
or  measures  of  precaution.  The  deserters  went  in 
crowds.  They  took  possession  of  trains,  evicted  regu- 
lar passengers,  traveled  on  roofs  and  platforms, 
forced  railway  officials  under  menace  of  death  to  break 
all  traffic  regulations,  with  the  greatest  danger  for 
themselves.  Or  they  went  on  foot  in  bands,  ravaging 
and  destroying  everything  on  their  way.  Very  often 
they  chose  for  the  objects  of  their  raids  stores  of  al- 
cohol, preserved  from  the  pre-war  State  monoply.  They 
then  joined  hands  with  the  peasants,  and  helped  them 
to  burn  their  landowners'  country  houses  and  farms,  to 
ransack  their  property,  to  partition  their  land.  In 
the  towns  they  helped  the  throng  to  break  shops  and 
seize  stores  of  food,  to  search  houses  of  well-to-do  peo- 
ple or  of  some  suspected  "bourgeois."  Now  and  then 
such  incursions  took  the  form  of  anti-Semitic  pogroms. 

The  workingmen,  the  "proletarians,"  did  not  stay 
hi  the  background.  They  claimed  their  share  of  profit 
from  the  democratic  revolution.  As  a  result  of  the 
"military  socialism"  created  by  the  War  in  Russia,  as 
elsewhere,  the  workingmen  were  accustomed  to  high 
wages  based  on  Government  orders  for  munitions  and 
other  products  of  new  or  increased  war  industry.  They 
claimed  in  wages  more  than  they  produced  in  manu- 


WHY  BOLSHEVIKS  GOT  UPPER  HAND     43 

factured  goods.  The  State  had  to  pay  for  everything. 
The  proprietors  of  concerns  were  remunerated  with 
new  orders  paid  in  advance  in  increased  prices.  The 
village  also  grew  rich  with  paper  money,  printed  and 
paid  in  abundance  for  agricultural  products. 

All  this  apparent  prosperity  was  based  on  an  emer- 
gency budget.  Extraordinary  income  (from  loans  and 
other  operations  of  credit)  surpassed  by  far  ordinary 
receipts  from  taxes,  which  were  paid  most  irregu- 
larly. The  population  thus  grew  accustomed  to  living 
at  the  expense  of  the  State.  That  kind  of  "State  So- 
cialism" served  as  a  suitable  introduction  to  the  Bol- 
shevist fantastic  finance.  Along  with  the  Allied  loans, 
the  printing  press  was  already  being  used  in  steadily 
increasing  figures.  The  inflated  currency  reflected  itself 
immediately  in  the  rise  of  prices,  which  in  its  turn  was 
responsible  for  new  claims  for  increased  wages  and  new 
subsidies. 

In  a  word,  at  the  moment  when  the  Bolshevist  coup 
d'etat  took  place,  in  November,  1921,  Russia  was  ready 
for  Bolshevism.  The  situation  was  so  bad  that,  in 
everybody's  opinion,  it  could  not  be  made  worse  by 
any  new  change.  On  the  contrary,  a  change  was  looked 
for  by  the  population  as  a  chance  for  improvement. 

We  now  can  understand  why  a  sort  of  sanction  was 
given  to  the  Bolshevist  coup  d'etat  in  Petrograd  by  the 
passive  attitude  of  a  suffering  population.  A  young 
shepherd  found  using  his  landlord's  field  as  a  pasture 
for  the  village  cattle,  summed  up  the  state  of  affairs  in 
a  brief  saying.  He  was  asked  by  his  landlord's  man- 
ager, why  he  permitted  himself  to  trespass  on  other  peo- 
ple's property.  "Well,"  he  answered,  "we  now  have 
equal  rights"  ("teper  ravnopraviye").  He  evidently 
understood  it  in  the  sense  of  J.  J.  Rousseau's  primitive 


44      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

state  of  nature.  Ancient  law  was  abolished  by  the  new 
right  of  Revolution.  No  new  law  was  there  to  take 
its  place,  and  no  legal  authority  was  present  to  enact 
that  new  law.  "Equal  rights"  were  to  last  until  a  new 
social  compact  was  entered  into  by  the  community  and 
a  new  social  will  was  created. 

Let  us  now  see  what  was  that  new  social  compact, 
proposed  by  the  Communist  Party  as  the  last  word 
of  Social  Science. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  BOLSHEVIST  REGIME. 

I  have  come  to  a  subject  which  is  much  more  in  dis- 
pute than  anything  I  spoke  of  in  my  first  two  chapters. 
The  Bolshevist  regime  has  been  so  often  described  by 
eye-witnesses  from  different  and  even  opposite  view- 
points, that  the  general  public  has  gone  astray  and  does 
not  know  whom  and  what  to  believe.  People  have  had 
to  choose  between  severe  exposures  of  Bolshevism  by 
observers  who  were  by  some  suspected  of  "counter- 
revolutionary" and  reactionary  tendencies,  and  glowing 
pictures  of  a  new  life  for  a  regenerated  humanity, 
largely  spread  by  the  Bolshevist  propagandists. 

However,  as  time  went  on,  the  real  facts  in  the  situa- 
tion had  to  take  the  place  of  gloomy  forebodings  or 
brilliant  prospectives.  During  its  four  years  of  exist- 
ence, the  Bolshevist  regime  has  had  every  chance  to 
assert  itself  and  to  carry  the  social  experiment,  unique 
in  the  history  of  mankind,  up  to  its  last  consequences. 
We  now  have  that  chapter  of  the  story  almost  complete. 
We  can  trace  Bolshevism  from  its  origin,  through  its 
development,  to  its  decline,  which  is  now  recognized 
by  the  Bolsheviks  themselves.  They  would  tell  you, 
of  course,  that  this  is  not  yet  the  end,  but  only  a  re- 
spite, after  which  the  experiment  shall  be  renewed 
under  better  conditions.  You  may  agree  or  disagree 
with  this  new  prediction.  But  there  can  be  no  more 
doubt  as  to  the  past. 

45 


46      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Let  us  now  study  Bolshevism  in  its  past,  as  a  living 
reality,  not  as  a  "promised  land."  I  purposely  use 
the  word  "Bolshevism"  .and  not  "communism," 
which  is  what  Mr.  Lenin  wished  his  experiment 
to  be  called.  "Communism"  is  an  international  doc- 
trine; "Bolshevism"  is  a  Russian  achievement.  The 
Russian  peasants  noted  that  distinction  very  well, 
as  shown  by  their  war  cry:  "Long  live  Bolshe- 
vism, but  down  with  communism."  They  knew 
that  "Bolshevism"  was  giving  them  the  land,  while 
"communism"  wished  to  take  that  land  back  for  col- 
lective use.  They  were  for  a  time  satisfied  with  the 
Bolsheviks'  policy,  but  they  loathed  their  Utopian  doc- 
trine. 

The  Bolshevist  leaders  also  realized  that  difference 
perfectly  well.  As  I  have  said  before,  they  never  ex- 
pected to  make  Russia  "communist."  They  were  too 
clever  for  that  and  they  knew  their  country  too  well. 
"Communism"  was  reserved  for  the  next  stage — that  of 
world  revolution,  and  for  more  advanced  industrial 
countries.  In  Russia  they  were  satisfied  to  remain  Bol- 
shevist, in  order  to  keep  in  power  until  that  second 
stage  should  come,  and  to  use  Russia's  enormous  re- 
sources and  state  machinery  in  order  to  hasten  the  ad- 
vent of  that  World  Revolution.  This  also  explains  why 
these  uncompromising  fanatics  of  doctrine  were  always 
ready — not  only  now — for  any  compromise  necessary 
to  keep  them  in  power  in  Russia.  "Communism"  was 
for  the  World.  For  Russia  a  "preparatory  stage"  was 
quite  sufficient. 

You  will  never  understand  Bolshevism  unless  you 
look  at  it-  in  the  light  of  this  commentary.  But  I  must 
show  you  that  this  commentary  is  not  my  own.  This 
is  practically  the  main  point  of  Lenin's  special  teaching. 


THE  BOLSHEVIST  REGIME  47 

This  is  where  he  goes  further  in  his  tactics  than  his 
predecessors,  the  revolutionary  syndicalists  and  the 
revolutionary  socialists  of  the  second  decade  of  the 
XX  Century. 

It  was  also  always  the  main  point  of  difference  be- 
tween Lenin  and  his  Russian  fellow-socialists.  They 
taught  that  socialism  was  to  come  automatically,  by 
itself,  as  a  result  of  the  gradual  economic  growth  of 
capitalism.  Lenin  opposed  to  these  "economist"  fol- 
lowers of  Marx  the  political  and  the  revolutionary  side 
of  Marx's  and  Engels'  doctrine.  According  to  him,  po- 
litical revolution  alone  was  able  to  accelerate  the  ad- 
vent of  socialism.  To  the  usual  arguments  that  the 
working  masses  were  not  prepared  to  make  use  of  a 
political  revolution  for  introducing  socialism,  Lenin 
found  a  ready  answer  in  George  Sorel's  new  doctrine 
of  "violence."  You  need  not  wait  long  enough  to  get 
the  masses  quite  prepared  for  socialism.  Just  take 
the  lead  now,  directly,  and  start  the  attack  with  a  few 
people  who  are  already  conscious  of  their  class  interests 
and  who  are  prepared  to  act.  There  is  nothing  like  ac- 
tion; action  for  the  action's  sake;  "violence"  practiced 
by  a  small  vanguard  of  daring  adventurers,  in  order  to 
keep  alive  the  revolutionary  spirit  in  the  masses  left 
behind.  Let  us  go  out  for  direct  action,  whatever  be 
the  momentary  practical  result  of  it.  This  was  the  so- 
called  "catastrophic  conception"  of  the  advent  of  so- 
cialism. Lenin  accepted  it  but  he  proved  much  more 
consistent  than  the  originators  of  that  doctrine.  Sorel 
and  his  friends  thought  it  would  be  an  international 
and  general  political  strike  which  would  bring  about 
the  dawn  of  socialism.  But  the  political  strike  was 
long  in  coming,  and  Sorel  himself  called  a  "social 
myth,"  an  object  of  faith  rather  than  a  practical  scheme 


48      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

to  be  realized  at  once.  Lenin  was  too  impatient  to  be 
satisfied  with  that  indefinite  upkeep  of  revolutionary 
spirit.  He  wanted  his  action  now,  to  attain  a  definite 
purpose.  Of  course,  he  was  also  forced  to  adapt  his 
program  to  the  vicissitudes  of  the  "revolutionary  situa- 
tion." In  1901  and  even  in  1905  he  did  not  expect  his 
political  revolution  to  realize  any  other  immediate  re- 
sult aside  from  building  in  Russia  a  bourgeois  demo- 
cratic republic.  He  declared  himself,  accordingly,  ready 
to  fight  at  the  side  of  the  bourgeois  politicians  and 
to  enter  a  coalition  government  formed  after  the  revolu- 
tionary success.  It  was  at  that  stage  that  I  personally 
came  to  know  Lenin — a  stubborn  debater  and  a  slow- 
thinking  scholar  as  I  found  him  to  be.  In  1917  his 
ambitions  had  grown  immensely.  He  still  thought  that 
nothing  beyond  a  preliminary  stage  to  a  socialist  mil- 
lennium could  be  achieved  by  a  revolutionary  over- 
throw. He  knew  and  he  often  repeated  that  a  revolu- 
tion hi  Russia  would  stand  and  fall  with  a  revolution 
in  Europe,  as  no  "communist"  State  could  exist  in  the 
midst  of  a  capitalistic  world.  But  he  seemed  to  earn- 
estly believe  that  the  more  advanced  capitalistic  States 
of  Western  Europe  were  now  ripe  for  a  social  revolution 
and  that  if  only  Russia  would  take  the  lead,  a  world 
revolution  would  follow  directly.  The  Red  Press  in 
Bolshevist  Russia  had  for  years  been  spreading  news 
about  some  revolutionary"  outbreak  in  Berlin,  or  in 
London,  or  in  Paris.  I  think  the  first  psychological 
shock  which  Lenin  received  on  the  subject  came  when 
half-confidently,  half-mockingly,  he  asked  Mr.  H.  G. 
Wells,  while  the  latter  was  in  Petrograd.  just  why  the 
revolution  in  England  was  so  slow  in  coming,  and  the 
skeptical  Epicurean  laughed  in  his  face,  telling  him 
how  things  really  stood.  But  even  then  he  was  not 


THE  BOLSHEVIST  REGIME  49 

quite  disillusioned,  as  shown  by  his  famous  twenty- 
one  points — or  rather  orders — to  his  fellow-communists 
all  over  the  world,  to  stand  aloof  from  all  traitors  to  the 
cause  of  the  socialist  world-revolution  and  to  keep  their 
powder  dry.  Whatever  be  the  case  with  Lenin's  ideal- 
ism, so  far  as  other  countries  are  concerned,  his  realistic 
view  of  the  situation  in  Russia  is  very  well  proven  by 
his  tactics.  He  might  well  build  his  castles  in  the  air 
elsewhere,  but  in  Russia  he  wanted  them  to  be  built  on 
the  solid  rock  of  old,  good  autocratic  tradition.  This 
was  another,  the  "Bolshevist"  side  of  Lenin's  "com- 
munism," and  these  are  the  moorings  on  which  the  Bol- 
shevist regime  was  to  be  fastened. 

It  would  be  a  mistake  to  think  that  Lenin's  conces- 
sions to  reality  are  due  to  his  recent  disappointments. 
They  lie  at  the  very  root  of  his  tactics.  Just  before 
his  triumph  in  Russia,  in  August  and  September,  1917, 
Lenin  wrote  a  book,  "The  State  and  Revolution," 
wherein  his  political  realism  is  shown  at  its  best.  Let 
us  stop  a  moment  at  that  other  side  of  the  picture. 

Says  Lenin:  "The  State,  according  to  Marx"  (he 
will  always  tell  you  that  he  is  the  only  true  interpreter 
of  Marx's  doctrine),  "is  the  organ  of  class  domination, 
the  organ  of  oppression  of  one  class  by  another."  Well, 
then,  why  not  use  that  'organ  of  oppression'  for  the 
benefit  of  another  class,  against  the  'oppressors'? 
"The  advance-guard  of  the  proletariat,  capable  of  as- 
suming the  power  and  leading  the  whole  community  to 
socialism  needs  the  State,  the  centralized  organization 
of  force  and  violence,  both  for  the  purpose  of  crushing 
the  resistance  of  the  exploiters  and  for  the  purpose  of 
guiding  the  great  mass  of  the  population."  To  be  sure, 
this  view  of  the  State  precludes  any  "sentimental"  ap- 
plication to  political  life  of  the  ideas  of  democracy  and 


50      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

freedom.  This  is  just  not  political  life,  but  political 
struggle,  and  the  State  is  only  needed  as  a  temporary 
instrument  of  struggle.  "We  are  not  Utopians,"  Mr. 
Lenin  proudly  asserts.  "We  want  the  Socialist  Revolu- 
tion with  human  nature  as  it  is  now.  Human  nature 
itself  cannot  do  without  subordination.  .  .  .  There 
must  be  submission  to  the  armed  (the  'conscious'  van- 
guard is  bound  to  be  'armed')  vanguard"  .  .  .  until 
the  "people  will  grow  accustomed  to  observing  the  ele- 
mentary conditions  of  social  existence  without  force 
and  without  subjection."  This  period  will  be  very  long 
indeed,  as  you  see,  as  long  as  human  nature  will  not 
change  from  what  "it  is  now."  In  the  meanwhile,  the 
consequence  is  quite  clear.  "As  the  State  is  only  a 
transitional  institution  which  we  are  obliged  to  use 
in  the  revolutionary  struggle  in  order  to  forcibly  crush 
our  opponents,  it  is  a  pure  absurdity  to  speak  of  a  Free 
People's  State.  During  the  period  when  the  proletariat 
still  needs  the  State,  it  does  not  require  it  in  the  in- 
terests of  freedom,  but  in  the  interests  of  crushing  its 
antagonists."  To  "crush  the  antagonists," — this  is  the 
principal  aim  of  the  "proletarian  dictatorship,"  an  aim 
to  be  attained  at  any  cost.  The  program  of  using  up 
the  State  machinery  in  the  first  line  is  not  constructive, 
but  merely  destructive. 

However,  before  crushing  antagonists,  you  must  win 
followers  and  adherents.  What  cannot  be  done  by  fear 
and  terrorism  must  be  attained  by  promises  and  con- 
cessions. And,  again,  promises  and  concessions  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  realization  of  the  "communist" 
doctrine.  But  they  have  very  much  to  do  with  coming 
into  power  and  keeping  themselves  in  power. 

We  know  that  the  Bolsheviks  owe  their  initial  suc- 
cess to  their  wanton  demagogy.  Once  in  power,  they 


THE  BOLSHEVIST  REGIME  51 

had  to  fulfil  their  promises.  They  had  to  immediately 
grant  every  social  group  whose  support  they  wanted 
everything  that  group  wished, — and  to  give  it  in  the 
most  palpable  form.  They  did  it  very  adroitly,  and 
they  did  not  stop  to  think  whether  it  was  "commun- 
ist" or  not. 

Peace  to  the  Army,  land  to  the  peasants,  control  of 
the  factories  to  the  workmen.  Peace,  land  and  control 
were  also  promised  by  their  antagonists.  But  the  army 
had  to  wait  for  the  Allies'  decision  to  make  peace.  The 
peasant  had  to  wait  for  the  decision  of  the  Constituent 
Assembly,  to  take  the  land.  The  workmen  had  to  share 
their  control  with  the  State  authorities.  Then  came 
the  Bolsheviks  who  said,  in  the  crudest  form  possible: 
"Take  it  now."  To  the  soldiers  they  said,  in  substance, 
in  their  Decree  of  November  10,  1917:  "Just  meet  the 
Germans  at  any  place  on  the  front  and  conclude  the 
armistice  on  your  own  account."  To  the  peasants  they 
said,  in  their  Decree  of  November  7:  "Do  not  wait 
for  the  Constituent  Assembly  to  decide;  realize  im- 
mediately what  you  had  decided  at  the  Peasants'  Con- 
gress in  June."  To  the  workingmen  they  said,  in  their 
Decree  of  November  14:  "Just  go  to  the  owners  and 
to  the  managers  of  this,  your  factory  and  tell  them  that 
you  are  given  the  right  to  run  the  concern."  The  im- 
mediate result  was  that  the  soldiers,  peasants  and  work- 
men were  introduced  to  Bolshevism  under  its  most 
agreeable  form  and  recognized  the  Bolshevist  govern- 
ment as  representing  their  own  interests. 

This  result  was  also  foreseen  by  Lenin.  There  exists 
another  pamphlet  of  his,  written  at  the  same  time  as 
the  one  quoted,  and  published  under  a  very  character- 
istic title:  "Will  the  Bolshevist  Power  (they  had  not 
yet  taken  possession  of  the  power)  Be  Lasting?"  Le- 


52      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

nin's  point  was  that  the  lookecl-for  Bolshevist  victory 
could  not  be  otherwise  than  lasting,  because  it  w&s  to 
be  the  victory  of  the  rank  and  file,  and  everybody  had 
to  be  made  to  understand  just  what  his  personal  share 
in  the  victory  was.  "Well,"  he  said,  "under  this  condi- 
tion, we  shall  have  at  once  millions  and  tens  of  millions 
of  defenders."  Among  other  methods  proposed,  he  then 
promised  the  lower  social  strata  in  Petrograd  that  they 
would  be  put  in  the  houses  and  apartments  of  the  rich 
bourgeoisie,  who  were  to  be  directly  evicted  or  confined 
to  single  rooms.  That  also  was  not  new  and  not  at 
all  invented  by  Lenin  himself.  It  is  at  the  same  time 
interesting  to  note  that  such  methods  of  "unlawful  di- 
rect action"  met  with  opposition  in  advance,  on  the 
part  of  the  socialists  themselves.  I  may  quote  from 
a  letter  addressed  to  America  by  the  German  socialist 
leader  and  thinker,  Kautsky — Lenin's  worst  enemy— 
as  early  as  1912,  in  which  Kautsky  said:  "To  preach 
individual  struggle  against  property  means  to  turn  the 
interest  of  the  workers  from  mass  action  to  individual 
action,"  which  is  contrary  "to  the  moral  ideas  of  the 
masses"  and  "will  repel  them  and  injure  the  propa- 
ganda of  socialism  seriously."  But  this  was  just  what 
Lenin  was  doing. 

Promises  and  intimidation,  intimidation  and  prom- 
ises: we  will  often  have  to  come  back  to  these  alternate 
tactics  of  that  Janus  of  Russian  Bolshevism.  You  may 
also  take  it  as  a  provisional  answer  to  the  question  as 
to  why  the  Bolsheviks  have  lasted  so  long  in  power. 
The  provisional  answer  is:  they  came  to  power  by 
promises;  they  have  kept  in  power  by  fear. 

But  is  that  all?  Did  they  not  do  or  try  anything  in 
order  to  introduce  some  kind  of  communism  in  Russia? 

They  certainly  did.    Of  course,  not  at  once,  because 


THE  BOLSHEVIST  REGIME  53 

for  the  first  weeks  and  months  after  their  victory  they 
were  busy  "crushing  their  opponents."  To  remain 
alone  in  the  field,  they  had  to  disperse  competing  politi- 
cal parties  and  dissolve  institutions  which  claimed  to 
represent  democracy.  On  November  17,  i.  e.,  ten  days 
after  their  victory,  they  dissolved  the  democratic  Muni- 
cipality of  Petrograd.  On  January  6,  1918,  they  dis- 
solved a  much  more  important  institution:  the  first 
Russian  Constituent  Assembly,  which  had  been  the  ob- 
ject of  the  struggles  and  hopes,  the  symbol  of  the  Peo- 
ple's sovereignty  for  so  many  generations  of  Russian 
Revolutionaries.  They  did  not  wish  to  hear  about 
universal  suffrage,  another  object  of  revolutionary  creed 
of  former  generations.  For  a  revolutionary  ear  in  Rus- 
sia it  sounded  like  blasphemy.  But  the  Bolsheviks 
sneered  at  intellectual  superstitions.  They  had  noth- 
ing to  do  with  parliamentary  institutions  and  political 
democracy. 

As  soon  as  they  overcame  their  first  difficulties,  the 
Bolsheviks  began  publishing  "communist"  decrees. 
They  did  not  yet  know  whether  they  would  remain  in 
power.  But  so  much  the  more  important  was  it  for 
them  to  leave  traces  of  their  communist  legislation. 
However,  here  they  immediately  met  with  a  serious  ob- 
stacle. The  State  they  took  possession  of  was,  as  we 
have  seen,  disintegrating.  The  Russian  economy, 
which  was  supposed  to  represent  a  high  stage  of  capital- 
ism, to  be  directly  transformed  into  communism,  was 
thoroughly  ruined.  Even  if  the  Bolsheviks  really 
wished  to  introduce  communism  otherwise  than  on 
paper,  they  were  face  to  face  with  the  necessity  of  re- 
constructing the  administrative  machine  and  restoring 
the  sources  of  production. 

But  these  were  contradictory  and  conflicting  designs. 


64      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

To  strengthen  their  State  power  meant  to  postpone 
or  to  renounce  communist  experiments.  To  try  com- 
munist experiments  in  earnest — meant  to  lose  their 
political  power.  It  was  quite  clear  from  the  beginning 
that  in  the  event  of  being  obliged  to  choose  between  the 
two,  they  would  sacrifice  their  idealistic  aim  to  their 
realistic  tactics:  communism  to  Bolshevism.  Let  us 
now  trace  these  two  lines  of  their  political  conduct. 
You  can  guess  in  advance  that,  while  the  idealistic  line 
of  "communism"  was  extremely  irresolute  and  un- 
steady, the  realistic  line  of  "Bolshevism"  proved  quite 
firm  and  straightforward. 

Lenin  has  told  us  himself  what  measure  of  commun- 
ism he  found  it  possible  to  introduce  at  the  transitional 
stage  between  capitalism  and  pure  communism.  This 
is  how  this  "first  or  lower  stage"  of  communist  society 
is  described  in  the  terms  of  Marx'  doctrine. 

"The  means  of  production  are  now  (i.  e.,  at  that 
stage)  no  longer  the  private  property  of  individuals. 
The  means  of  production  belong  to  the  whole  of  so- 
ciety. Every  member  of  society  that  performs  a  cer- 
tain part  of  socially-necessary  labor,  receives  a  certifi- 
cate from  society  that  he  has  done  such  and  such  a 
quantity  of  work.  According  to  this  certificate,  he  re- 
ceives from  the  public  stores  of  articles  of  consumption 
a  corresponding  quantity  of  products.  After  the  de- 
duction of  that  proportion  of  labor  which  goes  into 
the  public  fund,  every  worker,  therefore,  receives  from 
society  as  much  as  he  has  given  it."  "  'He  who  -does 
not  work,  neither  shall  he  eat' — this  socialist  principle 
is  already  realized  (i.  e.,  at  that  transitional  stage)." 
'  'For  an  equal  quantity  of  labor  an  equal  quantity  of 
products' — this  socialist  principle  is  also  already  real- 
ized. Nevertheless,  this  is  not  yet  communism,  and 


THE  BOLSHEVIST  REGIME  55 

this  does  not  abolish  'bourgeois  law/  which  gives  to 
unequal  individuals  in  return  for  an  unequal  (in  re- 
ality) amount  of  work,  an  unequal  quantity  of  prod- 
ucts." "The  State  is  withering  away  in  so  far  as  there 
are  no  longer  any  capitalists,  any  class  whatever  to  sup- 
press. But  the  State  is  not  dead  altogether,  since  there 
still  remains  the  protection  of  'bourgeois  law,'  which 
sanctifies  actual  inequality.  For  the  complete  extinc- 
tion of  the  State — complete  communism  is  necessary." 

"Incomplete  communism"  was  thus  to  be  immedi- 
ately attained.  What  has  been  done  to  introduce  the 
"incomplete  communism?"  A  brief  resume  of  the 
salient  facts  will  suffice. 

In  April,  1918,  Lenin  was  obliged  to  avow  that  the 
process  was  very  slow.  He  now  proposed  to  take  cer- 
tain preliminary  measures  to  "encircle"  capital.  Capi- 
tal— in  Bolshevist  Russia?  Yes,  that  is  so,  Lenin 
stated  that  the  organization  of  the  proletariat  was  far 
from  being  accomplished.  The  methods  resorted  to 
"look  much  more  like  methods  of  conquest  than  like 
methods  of  regular  administration."  Even  the  books 
for  controlling  the  obligatory  labor  had  not  yet  been 
introduced.  One  must  proceed  slowly  and  gradually, 
verifying  every  step  tentatively  tried  by  practical  re- 
sults." And  indeed,  the  Bolsheviks  proceeded  very 
timidly.  They  did  not  at  once  attack  the  principle. 
They  preferred  to  grapple  with  its  consequences  and 
thus  to  "encircle"  the  enemy.  They  recognized  at  once 
that  to  destroy  the  bourgeois  regime  was  by  far  more 
difficult  than  to  overthrow  a  bourgeois  government. 

On  the  next  day  after  their  victory  the  Bolsheviks 
published  two  decrees.  One  of  them  disposed  of  big 
landed  estates,  which  were  to  be  handed  over  to  local 
agrarian  committees,  "pending  the  decision  of  the 


56      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Constituent  Assembly."  Another  decree  ordered  the 
nationalization  of  banking  institutions.  The  Bolshe- 
viks thus  intended  to  immediately  deal  a  severe  blow  to 
unmovable  and  to  movable  big  property.  But  they  did 
not  abolish  private  property  at  all.  On  the  contrary, 
they  left  untouched  small  landed  property  and  per- 
mitted the  drawing  of  small  sums  from  current  accounts 
in  the  banks  (1500  rubles  monthly). 

They  proceeded  with  the  same  indecision  hi  the  ques- 
tion of  workmen's  control  over  the  factories.  They  did 
not  wish  to  nationalize  the  factories  at  once.  In  No- 
vember, 1918,  Lenin  said  that  "socialism  cannot  be 
introduced  before  the  working  class  learns  to  lead  and 
to  assert  its  authority."  He  explained  by  that  maxim, 
why  the  measures  taken  in  the  question  just  mentioned 
were  "incomplete  and  contradictory." 

Neither  did  the  Bolsheviks  make  up  their  mind  to 
immediately  abolish  private  commerce.  When,  in 
March,  1918,  they  were  induced  to  nationalize  com- 
merce, it  was  for  a  special  reason.  They  were  forced 
to  organize  the  exchange  between  the  villages  and  the 
cities,  in  order  to  secure  regular  feeding  of  the  urban 
population.  Already  at  that  time  the  peasants  were 
unwilling  to  sell  their  grain  for  paper  money  and  asked 
for  manufactured  goods.  The  Bolsheviks  were  forced 
to  make  a  step  in  the  direction  of  the  "incomplete  com- 
munism." In  order  to  revise  and  to  fix  local  prices 
of  articles,  special  committees  were  formed  in  every 
town  with  at  least  10,000  population.  The  existing 
stocks  of  merchandise  were  registered.  Trading  in 
manufactured  goods  was  put  under  control.  Thus,  step 
by  step,  they  came,  on  October  8,  1918,  to  the  final 
decision  to  nationalize  all  domestic  trade.  All  shops, 
great  and  small  likewise,  were  closed,  and  their  contents 


THE  BOLSHEVIST  REGIME  57 

used  for  the  exchange  with  the  village.  However,  the 
cost  of  the  confiscated  goods  was  added  to  the  current 
account  of  the  owners  in  the  National  Bank,  and  some- 
times they  were  themselves  permitted  to  run  their  en- 
terprises as  officials  of  the  State. 

Foreign  trade  was  nationalized  at  an  earlier  date,  on 
April  21,  1918,  in  connection  with  the  signing  of  the 
Brest-Litovsk  peace,  and  the  commercial  fleet  was  de- 
clared national  property  on  February  8,  1918. 

It  proved  more  difficult  to  nationalize  the  industries, 
just  because  of  that  system  of  control  by  the  workmen 
which  was  conceded  by  the  Bolsheviks  directly  after 
their  victory.  The  control  was  individual,  each  fac- 
tory being  run  by  its  separate  committee  of  workmen. 
The  result  was  complete  chaos.  In  some  factories  work- 
men's committees  cooperated  with  the  former  adminis- 
tration and  very  eagerly  defended  the  interests  of  pri- 
vate owners.  In  other  cases,  they  themselves  tried  to 
play  the  part  of  owners.  They  everywhere  increased 
their  wages  enormously,  and  they  worked  as  long  and 
as  much  as  they  pleased.  Instead  of  the  eight-hour 
day,  which  the  Bolsheviks  had  inherited  from  the  previ- 
ous revolutionary  Governments,  the  working  men  re- 
mained in  the  factories  for  five  or  four  hours  of  unpro- 
ductive work. 

We  shall  see  in  another  chapter  how  the  Bolsheviks 
contrived  to  enforce  the  new  discipline  in  the  factories. 
But  they  were  also  forced  to  change  entirely  the  condi- 
tions of  controlling  the  national  production.  Their 
leading  idea  was  that  industry  was  to  be  centralized 
in  trusts.  Each  branch  of  production  was  to  be  organ- 
ized separately,  as  a  preparatory  stage  for  nationaliza- 
tion. Beginning  with  February,  1918,  they  proceeded 
to  create  "central"  and  "principal"  boards  for  every 


58      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

branch.  The  number  of  "Centres"  and  "Principals" 
was  15  in  March  and  51  at  the  end  of  the  year.  The 
central  boards  had  to  provide  the  raw  materials  and 
fuel,  to  regulate  the  demand  and  the  sale  of  goods,  fix 
prices.  The  "Centros"  gradually  took  the  place  of  the 
workmen's  committees.  Subsequently,  the  leading  role 
in  the  "Centros"  themselves  was  transferred  from  gen- 
eral assemblies  to  boards  of  professionals.  Compara- 
tively few  of  the  workmen  were  permitted  to  serve  in 
the  boards.  Their  main  personnel  was  composed  of 
trained  professional  men  or  such  intellectuals  as  were 
amenable  to  the  Bolsheviks. 

The  time  had  now  come  for  complete  nationalization 
of  the  factories.  But  the  Bolsheviks  still  hesitated. 
Up  to  August  1,  1918,  nationalization  was  used  rather 
as  a  means  to  punish  the  refractory  bourgeois  owners 
and  managers  than  to  embark  upon  a  serious  social 
change,  leading  to  communism.  Only  567  enterprises 
were  nationalized  and  271  sequestrated.  The  decision 
arrived  at  on  June  28,  1918,  to  nationalize  all  factories, 
is  explained  by  an  incidental  motive.  The  commercial 
treaty  with  Germany  was  being  negotiated  in  Berlin, 
and,  according  to  the  provisions  of  this  treaty,  State 
monopolies  were  to  be  left  free  from  treaty  dispositions. 
Mr.  Larin,  who  conducted  the  negotiations,  sent  word 
to  Petrograd  on  June  25,  and  three  days  later  Russian 
industry  in  its  entirety  was  declared  to  be  a  State  mon- 
opoly. 

The  explanation  given  in  the  Decree  of  June  28,  to 
be  sure,  was  a  different  one.  The  Bolsheviks  wished 
"to  put  an  end  to  the  economic  disorganization,  to  the 
disorder  in  the  distribution  of  supplies,  and  to  simplify 
the  dictatorship  of  the  workers  and  the  paupers."  At 
the  end  of  1919,  4,000  concerns  with  all  their  property 


THE  BOLSHEVIST  REGIME  59 

were  declared  to  belong  to  the  Communist  Republic. 
The  President  of  the  National  Economic  Soviet,  Mr. 
Rykov,  stated  that  it  was  "all  Russian  industry." 

However,  according  to  the  best  authorities  on  the 
communist  doctrine,  it  was  not  communism.  It  was 
"State  capitalism."  But  further  steps  towards  "in- 
complete" communism  were  in  sight. 

Now  that  all  industry  and  trade  was  in  the  hands  of 
the  State,  it  became  not  only  possible,  but  even  neces- 
sary at  least  to  work  out  some  general  scheme  of  pro- 
duction and  distribution  of  commodities,  just  as  had 
been  done  in  the  different  capitalistic  countries  in  war 
time.  A  would-be  communist  State  had  to  go  just 
one  step  farther  and  abolish  the  bourgeois  means  of 
exchange:  money.  The  Bolsheviks  more  than  once 
promised  to  do  it,  but  they  never  dared.  How  could 
they  when  paper  money  was  their  only  means  of  exist- 
ence? They  had  to  first  build  a  new  network  of  dis- 
tributive boards  all  over  the  country.  And,  indeed,  a 
gorgeous  scheme  was  prepared  for  the  Commissariat  of 
Supply  to  control  the  exchange  and  the  distribution  of 
commodities.  At  the  end  of  1919  the  Bolsheviks  de- 
cided to  make  use  of  the  free  cooperative  societies,  and 
in  spite  of  a  very  strong  opposition  on  the  part  of  the 
cooperative  societies,  they  gradually  transformed  them 
into  State  institutions,  in  order  to  make  of  them  an 
integral  part  of  their  distribution  system.  The  entire 
population  was  forced  to  enter  the  cooperatives  and  as 
early  as  1919  Mr.  Larin  announced  the  great  change  to 
come  soon.  "The  new  organization,"  he  said,  "is  now 
reaching  the  stage  when  it  will  be  possible  to  put  on 
the  order  of  the  day,  as  a  piece  of  practical  policy,  the 
solution  of  the  problem  of  'naturalization'  of  salaries, 
i.  e.,  paying  working  men's  wages  in  commodities." 


60       RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

In  another  chapter  I  shall  tell  you  what  the  dismal 
reality  was  as  compared  with  these  self-confident  asser- 
tions. As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  only  measure  really 
applied  to  regulating  distribution  was  the  extension  of 
ration  cards  (which  had  been  introduced  in  Russia,  as 
elsewhere,  during  the  war  time)  to  all  other  commodi- 
ties. Under  the  Bolsheviks  this  system  was  diverted  to 
serve  purely  demagogic  aims.  The  urban  population 
— who  alone  profited  by  the  system  of  rationing — was 
divided  into  four  categories,  and  the  "parasitic"  class, 
i.  e.,  brain  workers  and  "bourgeoisie"  were  put  in  the 
fourth  category.  They  were  to  receive  the  minimum 
of  foodstuffs,  a  real  "famine"  ration.  But  gradually 
that  was  changed :  a  new  selection  was  made  from  pro- 
fessional men  who  declared  themselves  willing  to  serve 
the  Bolsheviks.  The  Soviet  functionaries — a  new  Red 
bureaucracy — were  transferred  to  a  specially  privileged 
category.  At  any  rate,  even  the  first  category  rations 
were  quite  insufficient.  The  Bolshevist  statistics  show 
that,  e.  g.,  in  the  winter  season  of  1919-1920  only  36% 
of  foodstuffs  (flour,  bread,  grain)  was  received  by  the 
urban  population  through  the  intermediary  of  govern- 
ment organs,  while  64%  had  to  be  supplied  by  a 
clandestine  free  trade.  It  was  still  worse  with  the  rank 
and  file  workmen  who  had  to  rely  on  other  sources  than 
their  "natural"  part  of  wages,  for  nine-tenths  of  their 
minimum  consumption  of  food. 

However,  even  in  that  imperfect  form,  the  Bolshevist 
system  of  production,  distribution  and  consumption 
had  to  be  based  on  a  strongly  increased  State  power. 
We  know  that  the  Bolsheviks  inherited  the  Russian 
State  institutions  in  an  utter  state  of  disintegration. 
The  dissolution  had  spread  as  a  result  of  their  first 
concessions  and  promises.  Every  province,  every  dis- 


THE  BOLSHEVIST  REGIME  61 

trict,  and  here  and  there  even  cantons  or  villages  now 
acted  as  independent  republics.  Local  "soviets"  took 
the  place  of  the  former — also  irregular — organs  of  self- 
government,  and  of  the  newly  elected  democratic  Zem- 
stvos.  Here  and  there  they  even  began  to  call  them- 
selves separate  States,  and  they  introduced  their  own 
legislation,  taxation,  finance,  and  even  their  own  mili- 
tary defense,  which  was  especially  necessary  under  the 
obtaining  state  of  universal  chaos. 

Facing  such  a  situation,  what  ought  the  Bolshevist 
government  to  have  done?  After  a  few  initial  doubts 
and  vacillations,  it  decided  to  be — as  well  suited  a 
"revolutionary  vanguard  of  proletarians" — a  govern- 
ment by  party.  But  the  Communist  Party,  especially 
at  the  beginning,  was  not  at  all  numerous.  Of  course, 
the  ranks  of  the  party  were  soon  filled  up  with  new- 
comers. But  these  "November  Bolsheviks"  were  not  at 
all  reliable.  They  were — as  Trotsky  nicknamed  them 
—"radishes,"  red  outside  and  white  inside.  Even  if 
we  count  the  latter,  the  membership  of  the  Bolshevist 
Party,  for  the  whole  of  Russia,  according  to  the  Bol- 
sheviks themselves,  did  not  exceed  600,000,  i.  e.,  one 
man  out  of  every  200  Russians  was  a  member  of  the 
Communist  Party.  Practically  it  was  much  less  than 
that,  not  more  than  one  in  500  (1/5  of  one  per  cent.). 
Even  the  Bolshevist  officials  were  not  Communists,  in 
the  great  majority:  e.  g.,  in  the  large  provincial  town 
of  Vologda,  in  1918,  we  find  for  every  hundred  of  local 
officials  only  3  Communists,  37  "sympathizers"  (who 
also  could  buy  food  at  cheap  prices  from  the  Govern- 
ment shop)  and  60  "non-party"  men.  A  specially 
chosen  group  of  representatives  from  all  the  chief 
workmen's  unions  in  Moscow,  selected  to  fetch  grain 
from  the  villages,  consisted  of  78  per  cent  "non-party" 


62      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

men,  13  "sympathizers"  and  only  8  per  cent  Commun- 
ists (October,  1918).  You  can  see  how  weak  and 
isolated  the  Bolsheviks  must  have  felt  themselves  in 
the  country,  in  spite  of  all  their  triumphs.  In  order 
to  assert  themselves,  they  had  to  resort  to  very  strong 
centralization.  And  as  soon  as  their  first  difficulties 
were  over,  they  entered  upon  that  path.  They  acted 
systematically,  with  much  determination  and  great  te- 
nacity of  purpose.  During  the  first  year  of  their  domi- 
nation they  had  already  achieved  important  results. 
Here  we  come  to  the  second,  the  realistic,  line  of 
Bolshevist  tactics. 

To  centralize  the  provincial  administration  and  to 
bring  it  into  their  hands,  new  administrative  local 
organs  were  soon  created,  which  gradually  took  the 
place  of  the  self-appointed  "soviets."  These  bureau- 
cratic organs  were  called  "Executive  Committees." 
They  had  to  control  the  Soviets.  But  then  the  Sov- 
iets themselves  must  be  transformed  so  as  to  serve 
the  purposes  of  the  government  and  the  Communist 
Party.  The  Soviet  Constitution  made  that  quite  easy. 
The  famous  paragraph  25  of  the  Constitution  gave  the 
right  to  the  administration,  in  case  the  activity  of  some 
group  of  working  people  should  be  recognized  as  "dan- 
gerous for  the  Revolution,"  to  deprive  that  group  of 
their  electoral  right.  It  goes  without  saying  that  all 
bourgeois  groups  were  disabled  by  the  Constitution. 
I  came  across  a  curious  order  sent  around  to  the  vil- 
lages in  July,  1918,  by  the  Bolshevist  Commissary  of 
the  Interior.  "The  petty  bourgeoisie  in  the  villages," 
the  order  says  (and  let  us  not  forget  that  85%  of 
the  population  belong  to  that  "petty  bourgeoisie"), 
"have  dared  to  participate  in  the  elections  and  even  to 
be  elected.  They  must  be  immediately  arrested  and 


THE  BOLSHEVIST  REGIME  63 

tried  for  having  violated  the  Law  of  the  Soviet  Consti- 
tution." 

These  people  of  the  "petty  bourgeoisie"  are  thus 
neither  to  be  elected,  nor  to  elect.  Who  then  is  to  be 
elected?  The  Bolshevist  authorities  give  a  clear  an- 
swer to  that  question.  Here  is  another  order,  issued  by 
the  local  soviet  in  the  Province  of  Voronezh:  "The 
right  to  nominate  candidates  (to  the  Soviets)  belongs 
exclusively  to  the  groups  and  parties  of  electors  which 
will  file  declarations  to  the  effect  that  they  acknowledge 
the  Soviet  authorities."  "All  trade  unions  must  file 
—not  later  than  4  P.  M.  on  January  20  (1919) — a 
written  declaration  to  the  town  soviet  stating  their 
relations  towards  the  Soviet  authorities."  It  means 
that  the  "non-party"  electors — who,  as  we  have  seen, 
made  up  (at  that  time)  not  less  than  three-fifths  or 
even  three-fourths  of  the  Bolshevist  officials — were  not 
considered  "politically  reliable"  enough  to  run  their 
candidates  in  the  elections. 

On  the  other  hand,  such  political  parties  as  were  con- 
sidered reliable  under  the  Bolshevik  domination  were 
few,  and  their  number  gradually  decreased.  Practi- 
cally, the  Communists  alone  are  considered  reliable, 
and  official  candidates  only  are  admitted  for  election. 
Here  is  an  appeal  to  the  workmen  of  a  porcelain  fac- 
tory, addressed  to  them  by  a  political  representative 
of  the  270th  Regiment  of  the  Red  Army,  on  the  eve 
of  the  elections :  "Comrades,  workingmen !  You  have 
a  difficult  task  to  solve:  to  elect  such  comrades  to  your 
Committee  as  are  useful,  you  have  to  elect  people  who 
are  for  the  Soviets.  In  order  not  to  get  into  trouble, 
you  must  elect  only  such  Communist  comrades  upon 
whom  we  can  rely.  Comrades!  I  do  not  see  in  the  list 
of  candidates  any  one,  besides  the  following  seven 


64      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

names,  who  is  worthy  of  being  elected  (he  gives  the 
names).  If  the  Committee  should  turn  out  to  be  com- 
posed of  other  members  than  these,  I  will  dissolve  it 
immediately,  and  I  shall  propose  that  you  proceed 
to  new  elections." 

It  is  not  always  as  definite  as  that,  and  rarely  put 
down  on  paper.  But  that  is  the  substance  of  all  elec- 
tions under  the  Bolshevist  rule.  It  is  easy  to  under- 
stand why  the  number  of  communist  delegates,  elected 
to  the  "soviets"  of  all  degrees,  is  out  of  all  proportion 
with  their  number  among  the  population.  It  is  also 
quite  natural  that  such  kind  of  elections  deprives  the 
Soviets  of  every  significance.  The  result  is  that  the 
Soviets  meet  rarely  and  only  to  approve  the  decisions 
of  the  Executive  organs.  They  have  to  face  accom- 
plished facts.  Debates  are  not  formally  forbidden,  but 
they  take  place  only  on  exceptional  occasions,  and 
merely  the  fact  of  there  being  a  live  discussion  on  a 
certain  subject  is  already  considered  a  kind  of  revolt 
against  the  Bolshevist  authorities. 

"All  power  to  the  Soviets!" — such  was  the  Bolshevist 
catchword  when  they  had  carried  out  their  struggle 
against  the  Provisional  Government.  They  now 
changed  it  for  another  slogan :  "All  power  to  the  Com- 
munist Party!"  They  had  been  opposing  democracy. 
Now  they  decided  to  stifle  even  socialist  parties,  with 
their  proletarian  following.  Mr.  Kamenev,  a  promi- 
nent Bolshevist  leader,  tells  us  very  sincerely  what  the 
reason  for  that  change  was.  "The  membership  of  the 
Communist  Party,"  he  states,  "is  almost  imperceptible 
if  compared  with  the  Russian  popular  masses.  On  the 
other  hand,  every  party  needs  a  certain  amount  of 
force  to  rule  a  country.  That  is  why  we,  in  Russia, 
deem  it  sufficient  to  have  'the  majority  of  action/  to 


THE  BOLSHEVIST  REGIME  65 

keep  in  power."  The  Communist  Party  thus  makes 
no  secret  of  the  fact  that  everything  that  is  being 
done  in  Russia,  is  being  done  through  and  by  the  initi- 
ative of  the  Central  Committee  of  the  Party.  "All 
military  politics,"  the  Central  Committee  states  in 
its  publication  of  December  25,  1918,  "as  well  as  the 
politics  of  all  the  other  ministries  and  government  in- 
stitutions is  being  conducted  on  the  basis  of  orders  and 
precise  instructions  given  by  the  Communist  Party 
through  the  channel  of  its  Central  Committee  and  exe- 
cuted under  its  direct  control." 

However,  it  was  not  sufficient  for  the  "majority  of 
action" — in  the  hands  of  an  "imperceptible"  minority 
in  the  country — to  rely  for  their  further  existence  only 
on  the  authority  they  acquired  by  centralizing  their 
administrative  and  economic  system  of  government. 
The  only  means  to  keep  in  power  was — armed  force. 
The  Bolsheviks  knew  this  quite  well  and  their  first 
maxim  for  the  winning  of  a  communist  revolution  was 
always  this:  "Disarm  the  bourgeois  force  and  arm  the 
proletarians."  We  know  how  they  disarmed  the  old, 
bourgeois  army  in  the  trenches,  by  demoralizing  it. 
There  was  a  moment  when,  after  the  dissolution  of 
that  army  at  the  front,  they  had  practically  no  forces 
left  at  their  disposal.  In  January,  1918,  the  Red  Com- 
mander-in-Chief,  Krylenko,  who  took  the  place  of  the 
assassinated  General  Dukhonin,  reported  to  the  Central 
Executive  Committee,  that  "Committees  (revolution- 
ary nuclei)  were  the  only  remnant  of  the  army."  There 
were,  of  course,  a  few  thousand  disciplined  soldiers, 
drawn  from  alien  elements,  such  as  Chinese,  Letts,  or 
German  and  Hungarian  prisoners.  With  their  aid  the 
Bolsheviks  were  able  to  live  through  that  interval  of 
complete,  matter-of-fact  disarmament.  But  they  could 


66      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

not  go  on  like  this.  The  negotiations  with  the  Ger- 
mans at  Brest-Litovsk  proved  to  the  Bolsheviks  that 
the  argument  of  force  could  not  be  dispensed  with  even 
in  their  dealings  with  their  secret  protectors.  Mr. 
Trotsky  simply  failed  in  his  attempts  to  baffle  German 
generals  and  diplomats  by  means  of  rousing  Russian 
patriotism. 

He  decided  to  make  use  of  Russia's  humiliation  by 
the  Brest-Litovsk  treaty  to  popularize  the  necessity 
of  returning  to  a  standing  army.  It  was  also  necessary 
to  defend  the  new  power  from  "internal  foes,"  which 
were  already  fighting  against  Bolshevism  in  the  South 
of  Russia  under  Kornilov.  As  early  as  January  15, 
1918,  a  new  "Red  Army"  was  created  by  a  decree  of  the 
People's  Commissaries,  intended  not  only  for  support 
of  the  Bolshevist  power,  but  also  to  serve  for  the  "future 
socialist  revolution"  in  Europe.  This  army  was  to  be 
founded  on  the  principle  of  voluntary  service,  and  a 
recommendation  by  at  least  two  members  of  Bolshevist 
institutions  was  required  to  enable  one  to  enter  its 
ranks.  But  this  attempt  was  a  complete  failure.  The 
Bolshevist  Government  had  to  flee  from  Petrograd  to 
Moscow  before  the  menace  of  German  troops  advanc- 
ing to  the  Northern  capital.  It  was  then  that  the  first 
great  concession  to  reality  was  made  by  the  anti-mili- 
tarist leaders.  Mr.  Trotsky,  who  from  a  Foreign  Com- 
missary had  now  become  a  new  War  Lord  of  Russia, 
Decided  to  copy  all  the  Tsarist  methods  in  order  to 
create  a  real  disciplined  and  strong  armed  force.  He 
now  preached  respect  for  military  science,  appealed  to 
Tsarist  generals  and  officers  to  come  and  serve  the  Com- 
munist power,  and  in  May,  1919,  he  definitely  started 
to  raise  "a  genuine  army,  properly  organized  and  firmly 
ruled  by  a  single  hand."  This  army  was  to  be  built 


THE  BOLSHEVIST  REGIME  67 

on  the  basis  of  conscription.  Former  revolutionary 
slogans  of  "democratizing  the  army"  by  permitting  the 
privates  to  discuss  at  their  meetings  the  military  orders 
of  their  superiors,  were  now  cast  aside.  Iron  discipline 
was  reestablished — in  pre-revolutionary  forms — and 
made  even  more  stringent.  Successive  mobilizations 
were  started  from  July,  1918.  A  year  later,  in  the 
autumn  of  1919,  there  were  l1/^  million  conscripts,  and 
about  a  third  of  them  (500,000  to  600,000)  formed  a 
real  fighting  force  ("bayonets").  In  the  summer  of 
1921,  the  Red  Army  counted  85  divisions  of  infantry, 
31  divisions  of  cavalry,  31  separate  brigades,  9  separate 
cavalry  brigades  and  2,800  guns.  The  number  of  "bay- 
onets" was  400,000,  and  the  whole  armed  force  num- 
bered 600,000. 

The  political  management  of  the  Red  Army  has  al- 
ways remained  in  the  hands  of  the  Communist  Party. 
Especially  reliable  members  of  the  Red  Army  were 
nominated  "military  commissaries,"  with  the  right  of 
capital  punishment  of  military  commands  for  "counter- 
revolutionary" tendencies.  Communist  "nuclei"  were 
formed  in  every  unit  of  the  army,  in  order  to  closely 
observe  and  to  report  about  the  state  of  mind  of  the 
officers  and  soldiers.  Officers  of  the  old  regime  with 
few  exceptions,  were,  of  course,  not  considered  reliable, 
and  the  tendency  was  to  replace  them  with  young  offi- 
cers graduated  from  the  new  military  schools  created 
by  Trotsky.  But  not  before  1923  do  the  Bolsheviks 
themselves  expect  this  change  to  be  completed. 

We  shall  come  back  in  the  following  chapters  to  the 
question:  Just  how  reliable  is  the  Red  Army  on  the 
whole?  But,  from  what  has  just  been  said,  you  may 
conclude  that  special  measures  were  needed  in  order  to 
make  it  reliable.  Special  measures  were  also  necessary 


68       RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

in  order  to  control  the  whole  population  of  Russia. 
And  they  were  the  same  as  are  generally  used  under  all 
systems»of  tyranny  by  an  insignificant  minority.  Au- 
tocracy knew  them,  but  the  Bolsheviks  have  been  and 
are  using  them  to  an  incomparably  larger  extent.  I 
mean  the  Bolshevist  system  of  espionage,  which  is 
crowned  by  the  Red  Terror. 

The  system  of  terrorism  in  use  at  the  time  of  au- 
tocracy met  with  universal  reproof  and  aroused  indigna- 
tion all  over  the  world.  It  is  strange  to  say  that  the 
Bolshevist  terror,  which  is  by  far  worse  than  anything 
known  before,  was  exceedingly  leniently  treated  by  the 
same  public  opinion,  and  every  attempt  to  denounce 
Bolshevist  "horrors"  and  "atrocities"  was  met  with 
flat  denials,  as  mere  "packs  of  lies."  Unfortunately,  the 
facts  about  Red  Terrorism  are  too  numerous.  They 
cannot  be  here  quoted.  What  I  must  emphasize  here 
is  not  isolated  facts,  but  principles.  And  we  know 
already  that  "crushing  the  antagonists"  is  the  chief, 
basic  principle  of  Bolshevist  tactics.  "No  dictatorship 
of  the  proletariat  is  to  be  thought  of  without  terror  and 
violence,"  Lenin  formally  declared  in  the  summer  of 
1920.  "Terror,  as  the  demonstration  of  the  will  and 
strength  of  the  working  class,  is  historically  justified," 
said  Trotsky  in  a  signed  article  in  January,  1919. 

This  kind  of  terror  is  not  personal,  but  collective,  and 
it  searches  for  victims  not  among  the  criminals,  but 
among  members  of  a  social  class  supposed  to  be  hos- 
tile to  communism.  A  pamphlet  by  the  Bolshevist 
hangman,  Mr.  Latsis,  which  was  officially  published  hi 
Moscow,  in  1920,  states  formally  that  terrorism  is  an 
inherent  feature  of  the  civil  war  preached  by  the  Com- 
munists. "Civil  war  is  a  war  in  which  prisoners  are 
not  taken  and  no  compromises  made,  but  opponents 


THE  BOLSHEVIST  REGIME  69 

are  killed."  Opponents  are — the  bourgeoisie,  which 
just  like  wolves  "does  not  change  its  nature."  "We  are 
not  waging  war  against  separate  individuals,"  Mr. 
Latsis  affirmed  in  November,  1918,  in  the  organ  called 
"Red  Terror,"  "We  are  exterminating  the  bourgeoisie 
as  a  class.  Do  not  seek  in  the  dossier  of  the  accused 
for  proofs  as  to  whether  he  opposed  the  Soviet  Govern- 
ment by  word  or  deed.  The  first  question  that  should 
be  put  is,  to  what  class  does  he  belong,  of  what  extrac- 
tion, what  education  and  profession.  These  questions 
should  decide  the  fate  of  the  accused.  Herein  lies  the 
meaning  and  the  essence  of  the  Red  Terror." 

Nothing  need  be  added  to  this  statement,  and  it  ex- 
plains why  that  notorious  institution  of  the  "All-Rus- 
sian Extraordinary  Commission  to  combat  counter- 
revolution, sabotage  and  speculation,"  which  at  the 
beginning  was  chiefly  intended  to  conduct  investiga- 
tions and  whose  powers  were  never  clearly  defined  le- 
gally, gradually  erected  itself  into  a  sinister  tribunal  of 
inquisition,  with  its  branches  and  its  torture-chambers 
everywhere  in  the  country,  dreaded  by  the  People's 
Commissaries  themselves.  "Hang  the  Executive  Com- 
mittee of  the  Workmen's  Delegates  and  all  the  Soviet," 
an  official  of  the  Odessa  torture-chamber  is  quoted  as 
saying.  "If  we  choose,  we  can  arrest  Lenin  himself." 

It  is  impossible  to  say  how  many  are  the  victims  of 
this  "Che-ka"  ("CTwesvychainaya  i^omissiya,"  "Ex- 
traordinary Commission,"  named  from  its  first  letters). 
A  report  published  by  it  in  1920,  gives  the  following  fig- 
ures for  Moscow  and  Petrograd : 

1918  1919 

Executed   6,185  3,456 

Arrested 46,348  80,662 


70      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

The  great  majority  of  the  executed  (7,068  out  of  9,641 
in  two  years)  were  shot  for  "counter-revolutionary 
activities,"  i.e.,  for  political  reasons.  These  figures  do 
not  include  the  work  of  the  numerous  provincial  Extra- 
ordinary Commissions,  and,  of  course,  they  do  not 
mention  the  numerous  victims  slain  here  and  there 
throughout  Russia,  without  any  form  of  trial.  The 
number  of  such  would  probably  amount  to  tens  or 
even  hundreds  of  thousands. 

We  now  know  what  three  pillars  have  supported  the 
Bolshevist  structure  for  such  a  long  time.  There  are, 
in  the  first  place,  their  highly  centralized  system  of  ad- 
ministration, numbering  quite  an  army  of  officials,  con- 
trolled by  the  Communist  Party;  in  the  second  place, 
their  Red  Army,  also  controlled  by  the  Communist 
Party,  and  in  the  third  place,  their  secret  police  and 
espionage  system,  which  is  entirely  in  the  hands  of  the 
Communists.  Of  the  two  aims  mentioned  at  the  be- 
ginning— preparing  for  communism  and  keeping  in 
power — the  former  was  gradually  removed  to  the  sec- 
ond place,  while  the  latter  has  evolved  into  a  system 
of  self-defense  of  the  small  minority  against  their  own 
people, — a  system  which  has  never  been  surpassed  by 
any  tyranny  at  any  tune  in  the  world's  history. 

Whether  or  not  this  system  is  likely  to  save  Bol- 
shevism from  its  final  downfall,  will  be  shown  in  the 
following  chapters. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  REVOLUTION  AND  NATIONALITIES. 

A  chapter  on  nationalities  and  on  the  national  ques- 
tion in  Russia  cannot  be  omitted  even  from  such  a 
brief  outline  as  this.  Russia  was  not — and  is  not  now 
— an  entirely  homogeneous  "national"  (i.e.,  "one  na- 
tion") State  as  France,  or  Germany  or  Italy.  An 
ethnographic  map  of  Russia  within  its  former  bound- 
aries (before  1914)  shows  variously  marked  spots  not 
only  on  the  outskirts  of  Russia,  such  as  Finland,  the 
Baltic  States,  Transcaucasia,  the  Central  Asiatic  Prov- 
inces, but  also  inside  Russia  proper.  Many  remnants 
of  aboriginal  tribes  can  be  found  in  the  North  (Zery- 
ans,  Samoyeds),  on  the  Volga  and  in  the  Ural  region, 
(Tatars,  Mordva,  Cheremiss,  Chuvashes,  Bashkirs, 
Kirghiz)  and  in  Siberia.  The  first  impression  is  that 
Russia  before  the  World  War  was  a  multinational 
State  like  Turkey  and  Hungary,  bound  to  be  rent 
asunder  from  within,  as  a  result  of  the  growing-national 
consciousness  of  its  component  parts.  And  indeed,  this 
comparison  has  often  been  used.  I  find  it,  e.g.,  in  Gen- 
eral Smuts'  leaflet  on  the  League  of  Nations.  He  treats 
Russia  as  one  of  the  three  vanquished  powers,  and  he 
looks  at  the  process  of  dismemberment  of  Russia,  Aus- 
tria-Hungary and  Turkey  in  the  light  of  "self-deter- 
mination" of  their  enslaved  nationalities. 

The  view  of  a  liberal  Russian  like  myself  is,  natur- 

71 


72      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

ally,  a  different  one.  We  stand  for  self-determination 
and  for  national  autonomy.  At  the  same  time,  we  are 
very  strongly  against  the  dismemberment  of  Russia, 
We  expect  to  find  a  middle  path  between  self-deter- 
mination and  unity  in  a  Russian  federation.  A  com- 
parison with  Hungary  and  Turkey  we  consider  too  far- 
fetched, if  facts  are  considered,  and  unfair,  when  made 
by  a  recent  ally. 

In  contrast  with  conditions  in  Turkey,  the  nationali- 
ties of  the  former  Russian  Empire,  even  in  the  worst 
times  of  autocratic  policy,  could  not  be  considered  as 
"enslaved."  And,  contrasted  with  Hungary,  Russia  had 
its  numerically  predominant  stock  which  formed  a 
geographically  continuous  and  solid  nucleus  of  the  Em- 
pire. The  numerical  relation  between  the  component 
nationalities  of  the  former  Russian  Empire  can  be  seen 
from  the  following  figures.  I  take  them  from  the  census 
of  1897  (the  only  one  we  have  had).  The  entire  popu- 
lation then  numbered  128  millions;  it  grew  to  180  mil- 
lions in  1918,  and  approximate  figures  for  the  present 
time  can  be  calculated  accordingly. 


1.    NATIONALITIES  WITHIN  THE  AREA  OF  THE 
PRESENT  RUSSIA  (IN  THOUSANDS) : 

European      Si-     Central 

Russia      beria    Asia      Total 
Russians: 

Great  Russians 48,559  4,424  588  53,571 

Little  Russians 20,415  223  102  20,740 

("Ukrainians") 

White  Russians 5,823  12  1  5,836 


74,797      4,659      691      80,147 


REVOLUTION  AND  NATIONALITIES      73 


Turko-Tatars: 


European      Si-     Central 
Russia      beria      Asia     Total 


(Kirghiz,  Tatars, 
Bashkirs,  Sarts,  Uz- 
begs,  Chuvashes,  Tur- 
komans, other)  4,220 

Finno-  Ugrians : 

(Finns,  Karelians, 
Lapps,  Mordvinians, 

other)    2,433 

Mongols   171 

Jews    3,715 

Germans 1,312 


475   6,618      11,313 


53 

289 

33 

5 


13 

"s 

9 


2,499 

460 

3,756 

1,326 


11,851         855   6,648      19,354 

2.  NATIONALITIES  IN  THE  BORDER  STATES 
THAT  MADE  PART  OF  THE  FORMER  RUSSIAN 
EMPIRE: 

Finns  (in  Finland) 2,353 

Poles  (Russian  Poland) . .     7,866 

(Russians  in  Poland  proper:     Great  Russians,  267;  Little 
Russians,  335;  White  Russians,  29;  Jews,  1,267) 

Lithuanians   1,658 

Letts   1,427 

Esthonians  990 

Rumanians 1,122 

Caucasians  (in  Transcaucasia) : 

(Russians  in  Caucasia:     Great  Russians,  1,830;  Little 
Russians,  1,305;  White  Russians,  20) 

Armenians    1,096 

Georgians  1,352 

Turko-Tatars 1,880 

Other  Caucasians 1,631 

5,959 

Total    21,375     (-f  3,766  Russians  -f 

1,267  Jews,  etc.) 


74      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

In  former  Russia  the  Russian  stock  made  up  65%, 
i.e.,  two-thirds  of  the  population  (43.3%  Great  Rus- 
sians; 17.4%  Little  Russians;  4.5%  White  Russians). 
In  dismembered  Russia  it  makes  up  80%,  i.e.-,  four- 
fifths  of  the  population,  and  the  remaining  20%  do 
not  represent  continuous  groups  but,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  Central  Asiatic  Provinces,  are  very  much 
scattered  among  the  Russians.  It  is  true  that  the  Rus- 
sians themselves  divide  into  the  three  branches  men- 
tioned above.  Since  probably  the  XII-XIV  Century 
these  branches  speak  different  dialects,  and  there  have 
been  some  attempts  made  to  prove  that  Little  Russian 
and  White  Russian  are  not  dialects,  but  entirely  differ- 
ent languages  from  the  Great  Russian,  which  is  the 
language  of  our  literature.  At  any  rate,  they  are  much 
closer  related  to  each  other  than  to  any  other  Slav 
language,  either  of  the  Western  (Polish  or  Czech)  or 
even  of  the  Eastern  (Bulgarian  and  Serbian)  groups. 
All  three  Russian  branches  understand  each  other  quite 
easily. 

So  far  as  the  other  nationalities  are  concerned,  the 
difference  between  such  as  are  now  detached  from  Rus- 
sia and  such  as  have  remained  within  Russia  is  a  very 
gradual  one.  The  difference  is  not  so  much  in  degree 
of  national  consciousness  as  in  geographical  position 
and  in  the  degree  of  continuity  of  settlement. 

To  compare  the  relation  of  all  these  nationalities  to 
the  Russian  stock,  with  the  relation  of  the  enslaved 
Christian  nationalities  towards  Turkey  means  simply 
not  to  know  the  character  of  the  Turkish  domination. 
There  was  nothing  in  Russia  like  superposition  of  two 
races,  the  ruling  and  the  conquered  one,  with  their  un- 
fathomed  difference  of  culture  and  civilization.  It  was 
not  conquest  and  subjugation,  but  a  lengthy  process 


REVOLUTION  AND  NATIONALITIES      75 

of  settlement  and  amalgamation.  Up  to  quite  recently 
no  nationality  in  Russia  thought  of  separating  itself 
from  the  Russian  State  and  even  the  idea  of  autonomy 
was  not  common.  That  state  of  mind  of  the  nationali- 
ties entirely  harmonized  with  the  spirit  of  the  Russian 
people,  which  never  was  aggressively  nationalistic;  nay, 
it  was  not  always  conscious  of  its  own  nationality. 

A  morbid  and  inflamed  national  feeling  is  born  al- 
ways under  the  menace  of  denationalization,  which  is 
particularly  dangerous  for  small  nations.  No  such 
menace  could  exist  in  a  country  like  Russia.  Russia 
was  too  big,  and  its  population,  far  from  being  influ- 
enced by  other  nationalities,  had  not  even  much  chance 
of  learning  about  their  very  existence.  It  is  often 
stated  that  the  American  Middle  West  found  itself  in 
a  similar  situation  which,  until  recently,  made  it  quite 
indifferent  about  other  nations  and  foreign  politics. 
Every  great  nation  has  its  middle-something  which 
does  not  come  in  contact  with  any  boundaries  and  does 
not  know  much  about  any  conflicts.  This  is  about  the 
state  of  mind  of  the  Russian  popular  masses.  There 
were,  of  course,  exceptions  to  that  state  of  indifference 
in  the  long  historical  life  of  the  nation.  The  Tatar 
yoke  of  the  XIII-XIV  Century  made  the  upper  social 
layers  in  Russia  feel  keenly  that  they  were  Russians 
and  Christians.  When,  at  a  later  period  (XVII  Cen- 
tury and  after),  there  was  the  danger  of  being  dena- 
tionalized by  the  Poles  on  the  Western  frontier  of 
Russia,  the  Russian  population  disclosed  a  strong  de- 
fensive or  even  militant  nationalism.  The  whole  na- 
tion rose  up  at  the  beginning  of  the  XVII  Century  to 
defend  Russia's  political  and  national  independence. 
There  was  also  much  feeling  against  that  process  of 
"Europeanization"  of  Russia,  which  began  in  the  sec- 


76      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

ond  part  of  the  XVII  Century  and  especially  with  the 
reforms  of  Peter  the  Great.  National  feeling  is  again 
aroused  now  in  the  masses,  as  a  result  of  the  Allied 
policy  toward  Russia.  But  as  I  have  just  said,  these 
are  exceptions,  and  even  in  these  cases  popular  feeling 
never  turned  itself  against  other  nationalities  in  Rus- 
sia itself  (except  the  Jews).  Still  less  was  it  possible 
to  expect  that  the  Russian  people  would  "Russianize"' 
other  nationalities,  as  the  Hungarians  were  "Magyariz- 
ing"  their  alien  populations,  or  the  Greeks,  the  Serbs 
and  Bulgarians  were  trying  to  assimilate  the  population 
of  Macedonia.  It  was  not  the  people,  but  the  officials; 
not  the  intellectuals,  but  the  Government  which  dur- 
ing the  reign  of  Nicholas  I  (1825-1855)  started  upon 
"Russianization"  of  the  borderlands  and  made  of  mili- 
tant nationalism  a  weapon  of  political  reaction. 

However,  what  remained  unknown  to  the  Russian 
masses  was  gradually  learned  by  the  small  nationalities 
incorporated  into  Russia.  Naturally  enough,  a  strong 
and  uncompromising  national  feeling  was  first  devel- 
oped by  such  nationalities  as  were  more  advanced  and 
comparatively  recently  added  to  the  Russian  State: 
the  Poles  (1815)  and  the  Finns  (1809). 

The  end  of  the  XVIII  and  the  beginning  of  the  XIX 
Century,  as  is  well  known,  was  the  time  of  a  general 
national  revival  in  Europe,  which  followed  as  a  reac- 
tion against  the  cosmopolitanism  of  the  XVIII  Cen- 
tury and  of  the  Great  French  Revolution.  It  was  a 
period  of  Romanticism  involving  learned  researches  for 
the  spirit  and  soul  of  the  peoples — the  primitive  peo- 
ples or  lower  social  strata — which  preserved  their  folk- 
lore, popular  songs,  national  costumes  and  traditions. 
In  Russia  it  was  also  the  time  when  the  first  founda- 
tions were  laid  for  the  nationalistic  doctrine  which  pro- 


REVOLUTION  AND  NATIONALITIES      77 

claimed  that  the  "Russian"  faith  and  the  "Russian" 
form  of  government  formed  the  substance  of  the  Rus- 
sian nationality.  The  doctrine  had  its  refined  philo- 
sophical development  in  the  hands  of  the  "Slavophil" 
group  of  Russian  intellectuals.  But  it  also  had  its  sim- 
plified version  which  served  quite  well  the  nationalist 
policy  of  the  Russian  autocracy. 

This  policy  was  not  always  hostile  to  the  awakening 
of  national  revival  among  the  small  nationalities  in 
Russia.  On  the  contrary,  while  combating  the  strong, 
the  Russian  Government  protected  the  weak.  It  tried 
to  oppose  new  germs  of  national  life  to  the  more  dan- 
gerous nationalism  of  the  neighboring  powers.  Thus 
Russia  encouraged  the  modest  beginnings  of  Finnish 
literature  and  defended  it  from  the  Swedish  civiliza- 
tion of  the  upper  social  layers  in  Finland.  Russia  also 
protected  the  early  manifestations  of  the  Lettish  and 
Lithuanian  nationalities  against  the  German  civiliza- 
tion of  the  Baltic  "barons"  and  Polish  landlords.  The 
Russian  Government  was  not  hostile  to  the  revival  of 
the  Georgian  and  Armenian  literature,  while  it  played 
Armenian  patriotism  against  the  Turks. 

What  was  the  attitude  of  Russian  liberalism  and 
Russian  public  opinion  concerning  national  questions? 
The  influence  of  Russian  liberalism  on  politics  began 
to  be  felt  in  the  second  half  of  the  XIX  Century.  But 
liberalism  cared  little  about  exclusive  and  chauvinistic 
nationalism.  Russian  liberalism  was  broad-minded, 
freeth  inking  and  cosmopolitan.  Such  also  was  the  in- 
fluence of  Russian  literature,  poetry,  fiction,  wherever 
it  found  its  way.  The  intellectuals  of  other  nationali- 
ties reflected  that  state  of  mind,  as  they  were  strongly 
influenced  by  the  same  literature.  They  remained 
sympathetic  to  manifestations  of  the  feelings  of  op- 


78      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

pressed  nationalities,  but  they  chiefly  resented  political 
oppression,  without  being  much  affected  by  purely 
national  demands. 

The  change  came  at  the  end  of  the  XIX  Century. 
After  the  comparatively  liberal  reign  of  Alexander  II 
(1855-81)  there  followed  a  period  of  recrudescence  of 
militant  nationalism,  under  Alexander  III  (1881-1894), 
which  continued  also  under  Nicholas  II  (1894-1917). 
Two  nationalities  were  especially  persecuted  by  these 
reactionary  Governments:  the  Finns  and  the  Poles — 
the  most  advanced  two.  At  the  end  of  the  Century  a 
third  group  of  Caucasian  nationalities  was  added.  The 
fourth  persecuted  group  were  the  Jews.  A  real  exodus 
of  Russian  Jews  began  after  the  world-known  pogroms 
of  the  Ministers  Durnovo  and  Plehve,  about  1890.  At 
the  same  time  a  new  Jewish  nationalist  movement  ap- 
peared— Zionism.  Then  it  was  perhaps  for  the  first 
time  that  Russian  intellectuals,  as  well  as  the  Jewish, 
faced  the  national  problem  in  its  deeper  sense. 

The  immediate  result  was  a  scission.  The  older  gen- 
eration preferred  to  remain  faithful  to  the  former  type 
of  Russian  liberal  cosmopolitanism.  The  young  gen- 
eration turned  nationalist,  both  on  the  side  of  the  per- 
secuted and  the  persecutors.  Those  that  defended 
themselves,  as  well  as  those  that  attacked,  seemed  to 
start  from  the  same  basic  axiom:  the  principle  of  na- 
tionality was  paramount  for  both. 

Between  the  two  generations,  my  personal  position 
was  difficult.  I  never  shared  the  one-sided  cosmopoli- 
tanism of  the  older  generation,  which  ignored  the  very 
existence  of  national  problems.  At  the  same  time  I 
was  unable  to  sympathize  with  the  equally  one-sided 
spirit  in  which  the  national  problem  was  solved  by  the 
generation  of  the  end  of  the  century.  And  indeed,  the 


REVOLUTION  AND  NATIONALITIES      79 

alternative  was  equally  unacceptable, — to  disregard  and 
not  to  understand  at  all  the  process  of  growing  national 
consciousness  of  small  nationalities  (which  I  just  then 
learned  to  know  at  the  hand  of  the  Balkan  example), 
or  to  oppose  to  that  legitimate  process  the  national  ex- 
clusiveness  of  the  main  national  body. 

Both  states  of  mind  were  now  rousing  friction  be- 
tween the  Russian  and  the  allogeneous  intellectuals. 
The  cosmopolitan  intellectuals  were  accused  by  the 
other  nationalities  of  "imperialist"  proclivities  and  even 
sometimes  of  playing  a  double  game  with  national 
questions.  The  cause  of  their  supposed  insincerity  was 
that  they  in  all  conscience  did  not  include  the  idea  of 
national  autonomy  and  freedom  of  collective  manifes- 
tations of  national  feelings  in  the  catechism  of  liberal 
principles  which  they  preached.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  young  generation  of  nationalists,  which  fully  under- 
stood the  importance  of  national  strivings,  considered 
them  to  be  dangerous  to  the  State  and  often  took  the 
side  of  the  persecutors,  while  they  wished  to  have  the 
Russian  State  built  on  the  German  pattern,  as  a  "one 
nation"  State. 

I  earnestly  cherish  the  hope  that  the  present  genera- 
tion, the  third  one,  having  grown  up  during  the  Revo- 
lution and  having  learned  from  its  lessons,  will  know 
how  to  find  a  middle  line  between  liberal  cosmopolitan- 
ism and  reactionary  nationalism. 

At  the  time  when  the  Revolutionary  movement  in 
Russia  began  to  win  its  first  successes,  there  were  as 
yet  no  disagreements  between  the  Russian  liberals  and 
the  national  intellectuals.  All  national  advanced 
groups  fought  under  the  same  banner,  the  political 
banner.  They  did  not  then  think  of  self-determination 
as  their  immediate  aim.  It  was  understood  that  the 


80      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

liberation  of  nationalities  was  a  part  of  the  general 
political  liberation  of  Russia  from  the  autocratic 
regime.  Poland  alone  claimed  independence.  But  even 
that  claim  was  modified  by  the  uncertainty  of  the  in- 
ternational situation,  which  made  the  task  of  liberating 
at  the  same  tune  all  three  parts  of  Poland,  the  Russian, 
German  and  Austrian,  almost  impossible.  Finland  did 
not  ask  for  more  than  an  independent  constitution 
which  would  not  exclude  common  links  in  questions  of 
imperial  diplomacy,  defense  and  partly  in  finance.  The 
other  nationalities  did  not  even  expect  or  wish  as  much 
as  that. 

In  the  first  Russian  Duma  the  representatives  of  the 
different  nationalities  united  with  the  Russian  deputies 
in  a  common  political  struggle.  To  realize  their  na- 
tional aspirations,  they  formed  with  the  Russians  a 
"Union  of  Autonomists-Federalists."  It  is  character- 
istic of  that  time  that  in  the  second  Duma  (socialistic 
in  its  majority),  they  dropped  the  second  part  of  that 
title,  thus  emphasizing  their  desire  for  stronger  unity. 
It  was  now  a  "Union  of  Autonomists." 

The  tendency  to  acquire  freedom  jointly  and  to  post- 
pone the  fight  for  self-determination  was  especially 
strong  with  the  more  advanced  parties,  which  united 
socialism  with  national  aspirations.  Such  parties  de- 
cidedly opposed  the  separatist  tendencies  of  the  older 
and  more  conservative  groups.  As  early  as  1904  the 
Polish  National-Democratic  Party  renounced  its  de- 
mand for  Polish  independence.  The  Polish  Socialist 
Party  (P.  P.  S.)  followed  its  example  in  1907.  The 
Lithuanian  democrats  changed  their  name  in  the  same 
spirit.  Instead  of  calling  themselves  "the  Democratic 
Party  of  Lithuania"  (an  independent  State),  they  as- 
sumed the  name:  "the  Party  of  Democratic  Lithuan- 


REVOLUTION  AND  NATIONALITIES      81 

ians"  (i.e.,  an  ethnic  group  fighting  for  democracy  in 
general  and  basing  itself  on  territorial  autonomy  in- 
stead of  national  independence).  The  Lithuanian 
Social-Democrats  in  1906  renounced  their  separate  Con- 
stituent Assembly  in  Vilna  and  declared  themselves 
satisfied  with  the  All-Russian  one.  In  1907  they  re- 
nounced altogether  their  demand  for  federalism,  de- 
clared themselves  satisfied  with  autonomy  and  joined 
hands  with  the  Russian  Social-Democrats.  The  demo- 
cratic Letts  were  still  more  moderate.  They  declared, 
in  1905,  that  separation  was  a  dangerous  tendency 
worthy  of  "barons  and  priests,"  and  that  "it  would  be 
equivalent  to  suicide — to  separate  themselves  from 
Russia."  In  Georgia,  too,  at  the  beginning  of  the  XX 
Century  it  was  chiefly  the  noblemen  who  defended 
political  separatism.  Such  socialists  as  were  "feder- 
alists," provoked  severe  criticism  on  the  part  of  their 
fellow-socialists  and  were  kept  at  the  background. 
The  Armenian  nationalists,  the  "Dashnaks,"  were  an 
apparent  exception.  But  their  independent  Armenia 
was  to  be  cut  out  from  Turkey — with  Russia's  help,  if 
possible — not  from  Russia. 

The  Mussulman  population  did  not  wish  for  any- 
thing more  than  freedom  of  religious  and  cultural  life. 
They  cast  their  lot  with  the  Russian  democratic  parties 
(particularly  the  Constitutional-Democrats).  They 
elected  their  deputies  on  imperial  party  platforms  and 
these  deputies  in  the  first  two  Dumas  sat  with  the 
"Cadets,"  before  they  formed  their  own  separate  fac- 
tion. The  Ukrainian  radicals  too  at  that  time  did  not 
go  beyond  a  "national  territorial  autonomy." 

All  these  symptoms  of  moderation  of  the  advanced 
national  parties  are  especially  interesting  because  here, 
for  the  first  time  in  Russian  history,  they  were  able  to 


82      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

speak  their  minds  quite  freely.  We  can  be  sure  that 
this  was  indeed  the  expression  of  their  real  opinion. 
They  decidedly  did  not  wish  to  be  detached  from  Rus- 
sia. 

Two  circumstances  changed  that  conciliatory  state 
of  mind  during  the  last  decade  before  the  Revolution 
of  1917. 

In  the  first  place,  the  nationalities  were  bitterly  dis- 
appointed in  the  Duma.  Not  only  did  they  not  suc- 
ceed in  winning  political  and  national  freedom  in  the 
first  two  Dumas,  but  in  the  last  two  Dumas  a  majority 
could  be  formed  by  the  Government,  which  was  almost 
more  reactionary  in  national  questions  than  the  Gov- 
ernment itself.  The  most  chauvinistic  legislation  was 
carried  by  the  Duma,  which  hurt  deeply  the  feelings  of 
the  chief  nationalities,  the  Finns,  Poles,  Mussulmans, 
Ukrainians,  etc.  To  be  sure  it  was  autocracy  that  was 
responsible  for  the  composition  of  the  two  last  Dumas 
(See  Chapter  I).  The  opposition  parties  fought  by  the 
side  of  the  nationalities.  But  chauvinism  breeds' chau- 
vinism. The  public  opinion  of  the  nationalities  turned 
vindictive.  The  opinion  prevailed  among  them  that 
the  Russian  liberals  and  intellectuals  were  as  "imperial- 
istic" as  the  Tsar's  Government,  and  that  the  nationali- 
ties could  expect  nothing  from  them,  even  if  Russia 
should  succeed  in  obtaining  a  good  constitution  and  real 
political  freedom. 

The  second  reason  for  the  change  of  mind  of  the 
nationalities  was  even  more  weighty.  Their  growing 
disaffection  was  very  skillfully  exploited  by  forces  out- 
side Russia. 

The  dismemberment  of  Russia — on  her  western 
frontier — was  deliberately  made  a  part  of  the  Pan- 
German  and  the  so-called  Middle-European  scheme  of 


REVOLUTION  AND  NATIONALITIES      83 

reconstruction  of  the  future  Europe,  after  the  German 
victory.  The  expected  annexations  of  industrial 
regions  on  the  Belgian  and  the  French  frontiers  were 
to  be  balanced  by  an  equivalent  annexation  of  agricul- 
tural regions  to  the  east  of  the  Russian  frontier.  Rus- 
sia's part  of  the  indemnity  was  thus  to  be  paid  with 
land. 

As  early  as  the  beginning  of  1916  the  German  Army 
occupied  a  great  part  of  the  area  under  consideration: 
Poland,  the  Baltic  Provinces,  Latvia  and  Lithuania, 
also  a  part  of  the  Ukraine.  But  even  before  that,  as 
soon  as  the  War  was  definitely  decided  upon — namely 
in  1913 — there  began  an  active  German  and  Austrian 
propaganda  among  the  nationalities  they  intended  to 
detach  from  Russia.  Subsidies  were  given  in  profusion 
to  the  leaders  of  the  different  national  movements. 
Presumably,  that  was  about  the  moment  when  Lenin 
also,  then  in  Krakov,  and  Trotsky  condescended  to  ac- 
cept German  and  Austrian  money.  Lenin's  interna- 
tional program  was  then  enriched  with  a  new,  ultra- 
national  addition:  "self-determination  going  as  far  as 
complete  disannexation." 

When  the  War  began,  a  further  step  was  taken  to 
prepare  for  Russia's  dismemberment.  The  prisoners 
of  all  the  nationalities  mentioned,  the  Finns,  Esthon- 
ians,  Letts,  Ukrainians,  Moslems,  were  intentionally 
concentrated  each  group  in  a  special  national  camp. 
They  were  there  trained  for  revolutionary  propaganda 
and  for  military  insurrections  in  the  corresponding 
parts  of  Russia,  However,  the  opinion  of  the  leading 
national  groups  even  then  remained  moderate.  At  a 
special  "Congress  of  Nationalities"  which  met  at  Lau- 
sanne in  June,  1916,  only  the  Finns,  the  Poles  and  the 
representatives  of  Bokhara  and  Khiva  unconditionally 


84       RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

asked  for  independence.  The  Esthonians,  the  Cauca- 
sian nationalities,  the  Kirghiz  and  Tatars,  and  the 
Ukrainians  formulated  their  demands  in  a  conditional 
form.  They  still  were  ready  to  be  satisfied  with  na- 
tional autonomy. 

But  now  the  Revolution  broke.  The  results  of  the 
aforementioned  German-Austrian  propaganda  at  once 
became  manifest.  Drilled  propagandists  of  different 
nationalities  rushed  into  Russia.  Here  they  concurred 
in  the  forming,  within  the  Russian  army,  of  separate 
national  military  groups,  composed  of  Ukrainians, 
Poles,  Lithuanians,  White-Russians,  Moslems,  Siber- 
ians. At  the  same  time,  Lenin  proclaimed  the  right  to 
"disannexation"  of  such  "annexed"  provinces  as  Fin- 
land, Poland,  Esthonia,  Courland,  the  Ukraine,  Bessa- 
rabia, Georgia,  Armenia,  Daghestan,  Turkestan, — to- 
gether with  Ireland,  India,  Egypt,  Morocco,  Algeria, 
etc.  His  Krakov  promises  were  thus  fulfilled  and  sur- 
passed by  far.  In  vain  did  other  Social-Democratic 
groups  try  to  make  head  against  Lenin  and  stand  firm 
by  their  attitude  of  1905  (which  attitude  we  know),  to 
stem  the  separatist  strivings.  Lenin's  view  prevailed 
fully  after  the  Bolshevist  victory  of  November,  1917. 
A  week  after  his  coup  d'etat,  on  November  15.  Lenin 
issued  a  declaration  of  the  "rights  of  nationalities  in 
Russia."  He  confirmed  here  the  principles  of  equality 
and  sovereignty  of  nationalities  in  Russia  and  their 
right  "to  dispose  of  themselves  as  far  as  the  separation 
and  building  of  independent  States." 

Immediate  use  was  made  of  these  gallant  concessions 
by  the  Germans.  On  November  29,  the  German  Chan- 
cellor Hertling  declared  in  the  Reichstag  that  he  "re- 
spected the  right  of  Poland,  Courland  and  Lithuania  to 


REVOLUTION  AND  NATIONALITIES      85 

decide"  about  their  fate  independently  from  Russia. 
On  New  Year's  day  these  three  provinces,  as  well  as 
parts  of  Livonia  and  Esthonia  were  proclaimed  defi- 
nitely detached  from  Russia.  It  corresponded  to  the 
dot  to  the  above-mentioned  drafts  of  alterations  on  the 
Eastern  Frontier  of  Germany.  Moreover,  by  the  Brest- 
Litovsk  treaty,  Russia  undertook  to  directly  evacuate 
Finland,  the  Baltic  Provinces,  the  Ukraine  and  Trans- 
caucasia. The  Ukraine  was  forced  to  conclude  a  sep- 
arate peace  with  Germany,  as  a  first  proof  of  its  inde- 
pendence. 

Up  to  that  moment — everything  was  clear  and  easy 
to  understand  for  every  Russian.  We  knew  that  in  the 
event  of  his  victory  our  enemy  would  be  inexorable  in 
the  realization  of  his  decision  to  weaken  Russia  and  to 
make  use  of  her  economic  resources  for  himself.  We 
fully  expected  Germany  to  do  that.  That  is  why  we 
fought  so  hard  against  Germany  and  in  fact  very  much 
longer  than  we  actually  could  bear  the  strain. 

On  the  other  hand  we  also  expected  that  our  Allies, 
after  having  attained  the  aim  of  our  common  effort, 
would  help  us  to  make  good  the  fatal  results  of  our 
sacrifice.  We  did  not  expect  them,  of  course,  to  re- 
store the  unity  of  Russia,  as  long  as  Russia  remained 
in  the  possession  of  the  Bolsheviks.  We  also  under- 
stood that  the  newly-built  border  states  had  good  rea- 
son to  insist  on  their  matter-of-fact  separation,  in  order 
not  to  be  swallowed  by  the  Bolshevist  Russia.  As  long 
as  the  situation  remained  temporary — as  well  as  the 
causes  which  created  it — there  was  no  reason  for  real 
worry.  The  Bolsheviks  were  allies  of  the  Germans; 
Russia  was  dismembered  by  the  Germans.  This  state 
of  things  must  change  with  the  defeat  of  the  Germans. 


86       RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Germany  was  defeated.  The  Brest-Litovsk  treaty  was 
abrogated.  Imagine  our  utter  astonishment  and  dis- 
may when  after  some  waiting  we  began  to  realize  that 
to  weaken  Russia  was  not  only  the  aim  of  our  enemies, 
and  that  "self-determination"  of  nationalities  was  really 
going  to  transform  itself  into  "dismemberment"  of 
Russia,  under  the  conditions  of  a  definite  peace  treaty ! 
Mr.  Lloyd  George  told  us  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
on  November  17,  1919,  that  "fighting  for  a  reunited 
Russia  might  not  be  a  policy  that  suits  the  British 
Empire."  He  mentioned  a  "very  great  statesman,  Lord 
Beaconsfield,"  who  "regarded  a  great,  gigantic,  colossal, 
growing  Russia  as  the  greatest  menace  the  British  Em- 
pire could  be  confronted  with."  Lloyd  George  ob- 
viously shared  that  view. 

The  interests  of  the  Allies  were  unequally  distributed 
among  the  newly-built  border  states,  and  the  recogni- 
tion of  their  newly-acquired  independence  also  varied 
in  degree  and  in  speediness  according  to  the  degree 
of  interest  of  each  of  the  Allies.  The  interest  of  France 
was  chiefly  centered  on  that  idea  of  controlling  Ger- 
many from  the  East  and  of  finding  a  substitute  for 
the  Russian  alliance.  For  a  considerable  time  Poland 
was  considered  able  to  take  the  place  of  Russia,  espe- 
cially if  it  would  be  a  "strong"  and  territorially  en- 
larged Poland.  Certain  Polish  statesmen  tried  to  im- 
press that  idea  on  their  Allies,  and  to  a  certain  degree 
they  succeeded.  But,  as  a  consequence  of  further  events 
and  complications,  the  traditional  enthusiasm  of  the 
French  public  opinion  seems  to  have  cooled  down.  It 
left,  however,  a  pernicious  result  in  the  form  of  the 
annexation  by  Poland  of  a  strip  of  land  with  a  4,000,000 
Russian  population,  contrary  to  the  good  ethnographic 


REVOLUTION  AND  NATIONALITIES      87 

frontier  proposed  to  Poland  by  the  League  of  Nations 
in  July,  1919.  The  treaty  of  Riga  of  1920,  which  con- 
tains that  decision,  will  remain  a  source  of  dangerous 
complications  in  the  future. 

The  British  interest  is  chiefly  limited  to  such  border 
states  as  can  be  reached  from  the  sea.  Mr.  Lloyd 
George,  in  his  Guildhall  Speech  of  1919,  formulated 
that  policy  plainly.  "True  to  the  instinct  which  has 
always  saved  us,"  he  said,  "we  never  went  far  from  the 
sea,"  a  remark  which  was  met  with  the  laughter  of 
recognition.  There  are  now  two  more  seas  added  to  the 
domain  of  British  interest:  the  Baltic  and  the  Black 
Sea.  Situated  on  the  Baltic  Sea,  Esthonia  and  Latvia 
were  provisionally  recognized  by  Great  Britain  on  May 
3  and  November  18,  1918, — before  their  final  recogni- 
tion by  the  Supreme  Council  in  January,  1921.  An 
American  writer  sums  these  facts  up  in  a  keen  com- 
ment, which  I  permit  myself  to  quote  here.1  "The  recog- 
nition of  the  two  governments  of  Esthonia  and  Latvia 
by  Great  Britain,"  he  states,  "has  a  commercial  signifi- 
cance, not  only  in  respect  of  the  future  of  Russia,  but 
with  reference  to  general  imperial  policy  ...  It  ap- 
pears to  be  understood  that  the  Baltic  Sea  is  a  British 
trade  realm  in  which  there  will  be  important  develop- 
ments in  the  future.  Thus  it  was  the  British  navy 
that  blockaded  the  coasts  of  Germany  and  Soviet  Rus- 
sia. A  British  High  Commissioner  sits  at  Danzig,  and 
British  naval  units  have  patrolled  the  coast  of  the 
Baltic.  ...  All  this  is  in  line  with  the  British  tradi- 
tional policy  of  establishing  influence  or  control  in 

*"The  New  World  Problems  in  Political  Geography,"  by  Isaiah 
Bowman,  Ph.  D.,  Director  of  the  American  Geographical  Society  in 
New  York. 


88       RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

ports  and  coastal  belts  serving  as  outlets  for  interior 
population,  from  which  flow  important  currents  of 
trade." 

An  equally  important  change  took  place  in  the  status 
of  the  Black  Sea,  which  reflected  itself  in  the  situation 
of  the  Transcaucasian  border  states,  Georgia,  Armenia 
and  Azerbaidjan.  According  to  the  treaty  signed  at 
Sevres,  on  August  10, 1920,  passage  through  the  Straits 
of  the  Dardanelles  and  the  Bosphorus  is  made  free  not 
only  for  trading  vessels,  but  also  for  all  warships,  ir- 
respective of  their  flags,  hi  time  of  war  as  in  time  of 
peace.  This  was  done  hi  spite  of  the  observations  of 
the  Ottoman  Delegation  which  found  the  sovereignty 
of  Turkey,  her  integrity  and  security  deeply  affected, 
and  also  in  spite  of  the  objections  of  the  Russian 
(unofficial)  delegates  who  stated  on  July  5,  1919,  that 
free  access  to  the  Black  Sea  for  warships  leaves  without 
defense  the  2,230  kilometers  of  Russia's  southern  lit- 
toral. From  the  point  of  national  defense,  the  situa- 
tion on  the  Black  Sea  was  thus  extremely  deteriorated, 
as  a  result  of  the  World  War.  At  the  same  time  the 
Transcaucasian  border  states  became  an  object  of 
special  attention  on  the  part  of  the  British. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  here  all  the  havoc  played 
by  the  "Balkanization"  in  Transcaucasia.  Geography, 
ethnography  and  historical  tradition  worked  very 
strongly  for  unity  among  the  three  chief  Transcauca- 
sian nationalities  and  between  all  of  them  and  Russia. 
The  Russian  population  in  that  region,  as  can  be  seen 
from  the  table,  constituted  a  very  large  minority.  Rus- 
sian civilization  has  had  an  enormous  influence  on  these 
regions  and  their  economic  development  is  chiefly  due 
to  the  peaceful  conditions  created  by  the  Russian  sway. 
Separatist  tendencies  prevailed  here  only  under  condi- 


-LEGEND— 

f thnoqraphk  Sorter  Line  of  Poland 

Border  Lint  tftaWihed  by  lord  Cunon  and  acapftd 

by  Peace  Conference 
int  utablished  by  Treaty  of  Riga 


REVOLUTION  AND  NATIONALITIES      89 

tions  of  imperative  necessity.  Directly  after  the  Bol- 
shevist coup,  the  prominent  Georgian  leader,  Mr.  Noe 
Jordania,  declared  (December  3,  1917) :  "As  a  part 
of  Russia  we  continue  to  stand  for  an  All-Russian  plat- 
form. .  .  .  Separation  from  Russia  means  submission 
to  the  East.  .  .  .  The  interests  of  all  Caucasians  re- 
quire a  regeneration  of  the  central  power  in  Russia." 
As  late  as  the  end  of  February,  1918,  at  a  Diet  of  Trans- 
caucasian  members  of  the  All-Russian  Constituent  As- 
sembly, representatives  of  all  three  nations,  Georgians, 
Armenians  and  Moslems  declared  themselves  for  a 
"united  Russian  federative  democratic  Republic."  It 
was  only  when  the  Brest-Litovsk  treaty  was  signed  that 
the  Diet  was  forced  (April  27,  1918)  to  declare  the 
"independence"  of  Transcaucasia,  at  the  demand  of 
the  Turks  whose  armies  invaded  the  country.  The 
aim  of  the  Turks  was  to  unite  the  Transcaucasian  Mus- 
sulmans and  to  form  of  them  an  independent  "Republic 
of  Azerbaidjan."  It  was  in  order  to  save  themselves 
from  the  Mussulman  menace  that  the  Georgians  threw 
themselves  into  the  hands  of  the  Germans  and  asked 
the  German  Army  to  come  and  take  up  their  defense 
against  the  Turks  and  the  Transcaucasian  Moslems, 
and,  as  a  consequence  of  their  demand,  proclaimed  the 
independence  of  their  own  "Georgian  Republic"  (May 
26,  1918).  The  Armenians,  who  were  the  only  ones 
to  remain  faithful  to  the  Entente,  had  to  pay  the  bill. 
Both  the  Turks  and  the  Georgians  wanted  their  land, 
and  they  could  not  but  succumb  under  the  double  at- 
tack. 

This  was  the  state  of  things  in  Transcaucasia  when, 
after  the  Armistice  of  November  11,  1918,  access  to 
the  Black  Sea  was  made  free  for  the  Allied  fleets.  Just 
before  that  moment  an  appeal  by  Mr.  Balfour  to  the 


90       RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

peoples  of  Russia,  published  in  Baku  ("Azerbaidjan") 
on  August  26,  1918,  promised  to  support  Russia  against 
dismemberment.  Such  were  also  the  first  pronounce- 
ments of  the  British  troops  which  came  to  the  assist- 
ance of  Baku  against  the  Azerbaidjan  and  Turkish  be- 
sieging troops.  But  soon  that  policy  changed.  Gen- 
eral Thompsons  proclamation  of  November  24,  1918, 
declared  that  the  fate  of  the  "Russian  territory"  be- 
tween the  Black  Sea  and  the  Caspian  was  to  be  decided 
(in  the  absence  of  Russia)  at  the  Peace  Conference. 
On  December  28,  1918,  the  Azerbaidjan  government 
was  recognized  by  General  Thompson  as  the  only  right- 
ful power.  On  December  30,  1918,  Mr.  Balfour  in- 
formed the  Georgian  representatives  "that  His  Maj- 
esty's Government  view  with  sympathy  the  creation 
of  a  Georgian  Republic  and  are  prepared  to  urge  its 
recognition  at  the  Conference  and  to  support  its  desire 
to  send  its  delegates  to  Paris  with  the  object  of  pre- 
senting its  claims."  And,  indeed,  it  was  at  Earl  Cur- 
zon's  initiative  that  on  January  15,  1920,  the  Supreme 
Council  recognized  the  de  facto  independence  of  Azer- 
baidjan, Georgia  and  Armenia. 

However,  this  recognition  took  place  after  the  Brit- 
ish occupation  of  Transcaucasia  was  discontinued  and 
the  British  troops  withdrawn  from  Georgia  and  Ar- 
menia (July- August,  1919).  Mr.  Lloyd  George's  utter- 
ances as  to  the  "instinct  which  always  saved"  the 
British  and  helped  them  to  "extricate  themselves," 
when  they  went  too  "far  from  the  sea,"  seems  to  have 
been  suggested  by  the  situation  in  Transcaucasia.  The 
Italians  were  also  unwilling  to  take  up  the  task  which 
the  British  had  found  too  costly  and  dangerous  for 
themselves,  and,  finally,  the  newly  created  republics 
were  occupied  by  the  Bolsheviks.  On  April  28,  1920, 


REVOLUTION  AND  NATIONALITIES      91 

Baku  was  peacefully  taken  by  the  Bolsheviks,  who  were 
invited  to  come  by  a  meeting  of  the  representatives  of 
the  parliamentary  parties.  With  Georgia,  a  peace 
treaty  was  signed  by  the  Bolsheviks  on  May  8.  But  at 
the  moment  when  they  seemed  to  be  restoring  Russia's 
unity,  the  real  aim  of  the  Bolshevist  advance  to  Trans- 
caucasia became  clear.  It  was  a  part  of  their  scheme  to 
bring  about  a  revolution  in  the  East,  and  the  Trans- 
caucasian  Christian  nations  .were  to  be  sacrificed  to  the 
Turko-Bolshevist  Alliance.  As  a  result  of  the  decision 
of  the  Third  International  at  Moscow,  a  congress  of 
Eastern  "peoples"  met  at  Baku  on  August  27,  1920. 
Armenia  was  forced  on  November  7  to  make  peace  with 
Turkey  and  to  open  a  corridor  between  the  Turks  and 
the  Bolsheviks  by  giving  up  two  of  her  districts  (Zan- 
ghezur  and  Karabagh).  Bolshevist  armies  were  sent 
to  Azerbaidjan  in  order  to  cooperate  with  the  Turks 
against  the  Armenians  and  the  Georgians.  As  a  re- 
sult, communist  governments  were  created  in  Armenia 
and  in  Georgia  and  both  nationalities  were  put  under 
direct  Bolshevist  control.  The  last  treaty  of  the  Bol- 
sheviks with  the  Turks  practically  gives  up  all  Trans- 
caucasia to  the  Turks.  Such  were  the  results  of  the 
involuntary  "self-determination"  in  Transcaucasia. 

I  am  satisfied  to  state  that  the  policy  of  the  United 
States  in  all  these  questions  concerning  national  prob- 
lems and  dismemberment  of  Russia  was  perfectly  con- 
sistent with  general  principles  of  democracy  and  com- 
pletely loyal  towards  the  Russian  people.  The  Ameri- 
can viewpoint  was  especially  well  emphasized  in 
Secretary  Colby's  note  of  August  10,  1920,  sent  out  in 
reply  to  the  Italian  Government's  questions  as  to  the 
claims  of  Poland.  "Friendship  and  honor,"  Mr.  Colby 
said,  "require  that  Russia's  interests  must  be  gen- 


92      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

erously  protected  and,  as  far  as  possible,  all  decisions 
of  vital  importance  to  it,  and  especially  those  concern- 
ing its  sovereignty  over  the  territory  of  the  former 
Russian  Empire,  be  held  in  abeyance.  By  this  feeling 
of  friendship  and  honorable  obligation  to  the  great  na- 
tion whose  brave  and  heroic  self-sacrifice  contributed  so 
much  to  the  successful  termination  of  the  war,  the 
Government  of  the  United  States  was  guided  in  its 
reply  to  the  Lithuanian  National  Council  on  October 
19,  1919,  and  its  persistent  refusal  to  recognize  the 
Baltic  States  as  separate  nations  independent  of  Rus- 
sia. The  same  spirit  was  manifested  in  the  note  of  this 
Government  of  March  24,  1920,  in  which  it  was  stated 
with  reference  to  certain  proposed  settlements  hi  the 
Near  East  that  'no  final  decision  should  or  can  be 
made  without  the  consent  o*  Russia,'  In  line  with 
these  important  declarations  of  policy  the  United 
States  withheld  its  approval  from  the  decision  of  the 
Supreme  Council  in  Paris  recognizing  the  independence 
of  the  so-called  Republics  of  Georgia  and  Azerbaidjan, 
and  so  instructed  its  representative  in  Southern  Rus- 
sia, Rear- Admiral  Newton  McCully.  Finally  .  .  .  the 
Government  of  the  United  States  has  taken  the  posi- 
tion that  final  determination  of  the  boundaries  (of  the 
independent  Armenia)  must  not  be  made  without  Rus- 
sia's cooperation  and  agreement.  .  .  .  We  were  unwill- 
ing that  while  Russia  is  helpless  in  the  grip  of  non- 
representative  government  whose  only  sanction  is  bru- 
tal force,  Russia  shall  be  weakened  still  further  by  a 
policy  of  dismemberment  conceived  in  other  than  Rus- 
sian interests." 

This  noble  line  of  conduct  has  not  changed  under 
the  new  administration.   The  note  of  Secretary  Hughes, 


REVOLUTION  AND  NATIONALITIES      93 

issued  on  the  occasion  of  the  Washington  Conference, 
fully  confirms  Secretary  Colby's  statement. 

The  suspicion  has  often  been  voiced  that  under  the 
cloak  of  that  idea  of  sovereignty  of  the  people  and  unity 
of  territory  the  old  Russian  form  of  centralized  gov- 
ernment may  be  introduced.  As  we  have  just  seen, 
it  has  already  been  introduced  by  the  Bolsheviks  in 
such  border  states  of  former  Russia  which  they  suc- 
ceeded in  bringing  back  under  their  control.  I  have 
little  doubt  but  that  the  reactionary  and  monarchist 
extremists  cherish  an  ideal  that  would  be  equally  able 
to  restore  the  formal,  purely  mechanical  unity  of  Rus- 
sia, based  on  passive  submission.  Probably,  it  is  ap- 
prehension of  such  prospectives  that  urges  the  repre- 
sentatives of  nationalities  at  present  to  insist  on  for- 
mal recognition  of  their  newly  acquired  independence. 
Even  such  of  them  as  are  inclined  to  federate  with 
Russia,  will  often  say  that  formal  independence  is 
the  best  starting  point  for  future  negotiations.  The 
difficulty  is  that  there  can  be  no  final  recognition  of 
independence  without  the  formal  act  of  a  legally  con- 
stituted Russian  Government.  Recognitions  by  other 
powers  are  not  binding  for  the  Russian  people.  In  an 
acuter  form,  we  come  to  the  same  vicious  circle  that 
threatened  the  success  of  the  Irish  negotiations  with 
the  British.  No  negotiations  without  recognition, 
would  be  the  view  of  nationalities.  No  recognition 
without  previous  negotiations,  may  be  the  view  of  the 
other  side.  What  then  is  the  way  out  from  that  prob- 
able imbroglio  f 

To  a  great  extent  it  can  be  disposed  of  by  the  atti- 
tude taken  by  the  Russian  democracy.  This  attitude 
may  be  seen  from  the  resolution  adopted  by  the  Con- 


94      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

ference  of  the  Members  of  the  All-Russian  Constituent 
Assembly — which  met  in  Paris,  in  January,  1921 — 
with  regard  to  the  newly  formed  border  States.  Po- 
land and  Finland  are  here  not  included,  as  their  sev- 
erance from  Russia  is  considered  to  be  final. 
The  resolution  reads  as  follows: 

"1.  The  Russian  Democratic  parties  have  always  recog- 
nized the  justice  of  the  claim  of  Russia's  nationalities  for 
free  self-determination,  and  the  Constituent  Assembly  ac- 
cordingly proclaimed  on  January  5,  1918,  the  principles  of  a 
federal  structure  for  Russia.  This  desire  of  the  nationalities 
of  Russia,  however,  in  view  of  the  tragic  circumstances 
which  ensued  subsequently,  took  the  form  of  a  demand  for 
absolute  secession  of  the  Border  States  and  complete  sever- 
ance of  all  connection  with  Russia,  from  a  desire  to  pro- 
tect themselves  against  the  despotic  power  and  destructive 
policy  of  the  Bolshevist  dictators. 

"2.  As  long  as  the  Bolshevist  dictatorship  will  continue  to 
oppress  Russia  the  gravitation  of  the  Border  States  towards 
Russia  will  not  be  able  to  assume  rational  and  lawful  forms. 
The  stabilization  of  any  moral  and  political  break  between 
those  countries  and  Russia  will  only  lead  to  Balkanization 
and  mutual  feuds  which  will  be  taken  advantage  of  to  serve 
the  interests  of  foreign  imperialistic  politics. 

"3.  Reckoning  with  the  established  fact  of  a  number  of 
new  States  founded  through  the  efforts  of  the  Border  nation- 
alities, and  also  with  our  desire  to  safeguard  their  independ- 
ence, in  as  far  as  it  is  expressed  by  their  representative  in- 
stitutions based  upon  universal  suffrage,  the  democracy  of 
Russia  assumes  that  after  the  liquidation  of  the  Bolshevist 
dictatorship  and  the  restoration  of  popular  rule  in  Russia 
there  is  inevitably  bound  to  come  to  the  fore  a  community 
of  social,  political  and  cultural  interests  which  will  dictate 
an  economic  and  political  coalition  equally  advantageous 
and  even  indispensable  to  both  sides. 

"4.  A  federal  union  appears  to  be  the  most  appropriate 
form  of  such  a  coalition,  harmonizing  with  the  general  ten- 
dencies of  the  historical  process  as  well  as  with  the  cultural 
interests  of  mankind. 


REVOLUTION  AND  NATIONALITIES      95 

"5.  Defending  the  standpoint  of  Russia's  reconstruction 
along  federal  lines  and  having  no  desire  to  impose  upon  any 
one  by  force  of  arms  any  particular  form  of  political  con- 
nection, the  Russian  democracy  considers  a  mutual  agree- 
ment on  a  basis  of  liberty  and  equality  for  both  agreeing 
parties  as  the  only  correct  settlement  of  the  issue." 

The  task  which  is  here  set  forth  is  not  easily  accom- 
plished. But  the  American  example  is  there  to  show 
us  that  solution  is  not  at  all  impossible.  When  the 
representatives  of  the  separate  states  came  together  in 
the  summer  days  of  1787,  in  Philadelphia,  each  state 
was  hardly  less  zealous  to  preserve  its  independence 
than  the  new  border  states  of  Russia.  Every  precau- 
tion was  taken  to  consider  that  feeling  and  the  very 
word  "Nation"  seemed  to  be  tabooed  in  order  not  to 
provoke  separatist  susceptibilities.  But  years  have 
passed  since,  Federal  institutions  have  been  steadily 
working  for  amalgamation  and  the  result  is — the  great 
American  nation  strong  in  its  moral  ties  and  united 
with  common  bonds  of  growing  national  tradition.  We 
are  confident  that  the  United  States  of  free  and  re- 
generated Russia  will  pass  through  a  similar  process 
of  evolution. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  FOREIGN  POLICY  OF  THE  BOLSHEVIKS. 

The  juxtaposition  of  these  two  words:  Bolshevism 
and  diplomacy — is  it  not  a  most  flagrant  contradic- 
tion? How  can  it  be  possible  that  an  extremist  party 
whose  chief  business  is  to  blow  up  the  world  would  be 
permitted  to  treat  and  to  sign  agreements  with  the 
same  authorities  against  which  it  conspires,  thus  fa- 
cilitating its  task? 

Well,  life  is  the  most  improbable  of  fictions.  Life 
gives  us  that  exhibition  of  a  Bolshevist  diplomacy  work- 
big  in  the  open  for  the  same  aims  which  the  Bolshevist 
agents  of  secret  propaganda  are  at  the  same  tune  striv- 
ing to  attain  under  cover.  Moreover,  the  Bolshevist 
diplomatists  are  not  only  permitted  to  negotiate,  they 
even  have  their  moments  of  triumph.  Their  outspoken 
way  of  telling  everybody  unpalatable  truths  beats  all 
records  of  diplomatic  sincerity.  At  the  same  time,  they 
are  very  much  helped  by  what  is  so  often  lacking  in 
professional  diplomacy:  unity  of  design  and  complete 
consistency  in  carrying  it  out.  I  do  not  intend  to  give 
them  much  credit  for  that,  because  their  aim  is  too 
plain  and  absolute  and  unattainable  while  their 
methods  are  too  daring  and  reckless  and  irresponsible, 
to  be  imitated  by  any  civilized  diplomacy.  It  is  also 
important  to  note  that  while  the  Bolsheviks  are  con- 
sistent in  pursuing  their  aims,  they  do  not  at  all  claim 

96 


FOREIGN  POLICY  OF  BOLSHEVIKS       97 

to  be  consistent  in  their  methods.  They  would  change 
these  methods  and  break  the  agreements  entered  upon 
as  soon  as  they  found  it  necessary  to  do  so,  to  promote 
their  chief  aim.  Also,  they  are  never  embarrassed  when 
they  change  their  arguments,  or  even  when  at  the  same 
time  they  use  conflicting  arguments  in  their  diplo- 
matic documents  and  their  pieces  of  propaganda. 
Some  one  may  raise  the  objection  that  even  in  current 
diplomacy  the  methods  of  Talleyrand  and  Bismarck 
are  not  unusual  and  that  that  principle,  according  to 
which  agreements  stand  only  as  long  as  conditions  re- 
main the  same  ("rebus  sic  stantibus"),  is  regularly  ob- 
served. But  the  Bolsheviks  have  carried  these  methods 
to  the  extreme.  The  great  Bismarck  once  said  that  he 
could  safely  speak  the  truth  because  nobody  would  be- 
lieve that  he  was  doing  so.  The  Bolshevist  diploma- 
tists have  that  advantage  on  Bismarck  that  they  freely 
and  daily  speak  out  their  main  truth  about  the  World 
Revolution — and  they  are  believed — but  the  fine  old- 
type  diplomatists  are  satisfied  to  think  that  that  is 
still  a  long  way  off,  and  that  sufficient  unto  the  day  is 
the  evil  thereof.  In  contradistinction  to  these  old- 
school  diplomatists,  the  Bolsheviks  have  one  great  big 
job  ahead  of  them,  and  they  keep  clear  of  small  details 
that  obscure  the  chief  issue.  Monomaniacs  are  some- 
times very  clearsighted  people,  in  so  far  as  the  object  is 
in  the  immediate  sphere  of  their  vision. 

Whoever  believes  that  the  Bolshevist  chief  aim,  i.e., 
World  Revolution,  can  be  changed — or  even  that  they 
have  already  "abandoned  World  Revolution  together 
with  communism  and  all  the  other  foundations  of  Bol- 
shevism"— has  not  taken  sufficient  stock  of  Bolshevism 
and  is  bound  to  be  utterly  mistaken  in  all  his  judg- 
ments of  the  Bolsheviks'  deeds.  But  we  would  be 


98       RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

equally  mistaken  were  we  to  overlook  that  in  their 
tactics  the  Bolshevist  diplomatists  have  proved  to  be 
extremely  keen  and  flexible.  They  knew  how  to  learn 
from  experience.  In  the  four  years  of  their  existence 
they  have  thus  gradually  passed  from  the  awkward 
and  childish  initial  attempts  to  set  fire  to  every  piece 
of  inflammable  matter,  to  a  widely  spread  and  skill- 
fully arranged  organization,  led  by  good  experts  who 
know  how  to  mark  time  and  how  to  continually  modify 
their  preparatory  steps. 

The  origin  of  the  Bolshevist  diplomacy  is  contem- 
poraneous with  their  first  attempts  to  start  raising  an 
international  organization  with  the  avowed  aim  of 
"turning  the  war  for  booty  into  a  war  of  all  the  slaves 
against  all  the  masters."  At  the  beginning  their  anti- 
war activity  was  skillfully  diverted  by  Germany  to  serve 
her  own  purposes.  Russian  Bolsheviks  and  their  fel- 
low-extremists from  the  Allied  countries  were  used  by 
the  Germans  to  split  patriotic  public  opinion  and  to 
demoralize  the  armies  of  the  Entente.  However,  the 
first  attempts  to  make  use  of  the  "Second  Interna- 
tional" for  these  aims  failed,  as  socialist  members  of 
that  "International"  forgot  their  internationalism  in 
the  imminent  national  danger  to  their  respective  coun- 
tries. It  was  then  that  the  chance  came  for  the 
"Third,"  the  extremist  International,  to  be  tried.  Here, 
too,  German  policy  ran  parallel  with  the  Bolshevist. 
The  basis  for  the  "Third  International"  of  "anti-war 
socialists  of  belligerent  countries,"  with  the  exclusion 
of  the  "social  patriots,"  was  laid  down  at  the  Zimmer- 
wald  and  Kienthal  conferences  (September  5-8,  1915, 
and  April  27-30,  1916).  A  year  of  propaganda  fol- 
lowed, and  during  1916  the  idea  of  transforming  the 
patriotic  World  War  into  a  revolutionary  class  war 


FOREIGN  POLICY  OF  BOLSHEVIKS       99 

against  capitalism  began  to  spread  among  the  popular 
masses,  both  in  Germany  and  in  the  Allied  countries. 
The  Bolshevist  diplomacy,  in  the  pursuit  of  its  own 
aims,1  was  gradually  detaching  itself  from  the  German 
diplomacy. 

A  revolution  in  Russia,  whose  resistance  was  most 
weakened,  was  already  planned  at  that  time.  It  was 
to  be  directly  followed  by  a  Spartacist  revolution  in 
Germany  and — within  a  brief  time — by  the  triumph  of 
the  French  and  British  "comrades"  in  Paris  and  Lon- 
don. A  Swiss  socialist,  Mr.  Grumbach,  recollects  that 
Lenin  had  told  him,  before  his  return  to  Russia,  that 
he  "firmly  believed  in  a  revolution  in  Germany,  if  only 
a  revolution  could  be  first  victorious  in  Russia." 

Then  followed,  for  the  Bolsheviks,  that  period  of 
asserting  themselves  in  Russia — between  the  March 
and  November  revolutions  of  1917 — with  which  we  are 
already  familiar.  The  Bolshevist  and  the  German  di- 
plomacy again  ran  parallel  so  far  as  the  dissolution  of 
the  Russian  army  and  statehood  was  concerned.  But 
then,  after  the  Bolshevist  coup  d'etat,  the  tune  came 
for  them  to  redeem  their  pledges  to  Germany,  who  had 
been  giving  them  help.  This  was  the  first  opportunity 
for  a  purely  Bolshevist — i.e.,  Internationalist — diplo- 
macy to  win  its  first  laurels.  Lenin  was  still  sure  that  his 
Spartacist  revolution  in  Germany  would  come  soon, 
while  the  German  Government  was  urging  peace  with 
Russia.  Peace  was  also  proclaimed  by  the  Bolsheviks; 
but,  as  we  know,  it  was  a  different  kind  of  peace:  a 
peace  with  the  German  "proletarians"  and  a  beginning 
of  civil  war  with  the  German  "bourgeois-imperialists." 
Accordingly,  it  was  not  to  the  German  Government 

1  See  for  further  details  my  book  on  "Bolshevism,  an  International 
Danger,"  1920,  Scribner  and  George  Allen  &  Unwin. 


100     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

but  to  the  German  soldiers  that  the  Bolsheviks  ad- 
dressed themselves.  "Peace  is  to  be  concluded  not 
from  above  but  from  below,"  Lenin  argued  on  Novem- 
ber 11,  1917,  in  the  Central  Executive  Committee. 

The  whole  trend  of  the  following  events  is  explained 
and  commented  upon  by  the  Bolsheviks  in  the  light  of 
their  leading  idea.  The  Germans  consent  to  negotiate. 
It  means,  said  Trotsky  on  November  19,  that  the  gen- 
erals of  the  Kaiser  are  forced  "to  pass  under  the  yoke." 
To  Trotsky's  great  surprise,  "the  actual  proposals  of 
the  German  Imperialists"  do  not  at  all  agree  with  the 
program  of  a  "democratic  peace,"  as  formulated  by 
the  Russian  Revolution.  "We,  indeed,  did  not  expect 
such  an  acme  of  impudence."  Never  mind.  "We  shall 
have  to  carry  through  other  negotiations  with  Germany, 
when  Liebknecht  is  at  the  head  of  the  revolutionary 
proletariat,  and  together  with  him  we  will  readjust 
the  map  of  Europe."  But,  in  the  meantime,  General 
Hoffmann  is  speaking  quite  another  language  at  Brest- 
Litovsk?  It  does  not  matter.  "We  do  not  consider  it 
peace  negotiations  that  we  are  carrying  on  with  Ger- 
many. We  are  speaking  to  them  our  customary  revo- 
lutionary language."  With  the  German  people  we  will 
carry  on  "other  negotiations,  a  true  diplomacy  of  the 
trenches."  But  the  German  generals  are  using  that 
kind  of  diplomacy  to  increase  their  demands?  So 
much  the  worse  for  them.  "The  German  proletarians 
and  peasants  will  reply  with  the  cry  of  revolt."  And 
they  protracted  negotiations  for  fully  three  months, 
waiting  for  a  German  revolution  to  come. 

Here  came  the  first  disappointment.  The  revolution 
was  slow  in  coming.  Trotsky  then  resorted,  on  Febru- 
ary 10,  1918,  to  a  method  "never  used  in  the  World's 
history."  He  demobilized  his  army  and  "handed  over 


FOREIGN  POLICY  OF  BOLSHEVIKS     101 

the  Russian  front  to  the  protection  of  German  work- 
men." Mr.  Zinoviev,  the  Petrograd  dictator,  reveled 
in  exultation.  "We  dealt  a  terrible  blow  to  the 
World's  imperialism,  when,  three  months  ago,  we  began 
our  peace  negotiations.  Now  we  deal  that  imperialism 
a  deadly  blow  by  our  new  formula  ('neither  peace  nor 
war')."  At  Smolny,  in  Petrograd,  a  member  of  the 
Assembly  asked:  "What  next?"  Lenin  was  calm  as 
he  answered:  "Next  is  the  revolution  in  Germany." 
And  the  Soviet  voted  its  approval  while  expressing  its 
faith  "that  German,  Austro-Hungarian,  Bulgarian  and 
Turkish  workingmen  will  do  their  duty  and  will  not 
permit  their  Governments  to  assail  the  peoples  of  Po- 
land, Lithuania  and  Courland." 

The  real  result  was  somewhat  different.  A  week 
later,  German  armies  invaded  the  Russian  borderlands. 
Petrograd  was  in  panic.  On  February  24,  the  Soviet 
capitulated.  "Yes,"  said  Lenin,  "these  peace  conditions 
are  doubly  ruinous,  but  we  have  not  the  strength  to 
resist."  .  .  .  Three  weeks  pass  after  the  signing  of  the 
Brest-Litovsk  peace  (March  3)  and  one  week  after  its 
ratification  by  the  All-Russian  Soviet.  And  Lenin,  in 
an  interview  with  a  Daily  News  correspondent  (March 
22),  said:  "The  task  of  the  Soviets  is  to  hold  on  until 
the  mutual  exhaustion  of  the  fighting  groups  of  Euro- 
pean capital  brings  about  revolution  in  all  countries." 
On  October  22,  1918,  he  repeated  before  the  Central 
Executive  Committee:  "In  the  chain  of  revolutions 
the  chief  link  is  the  German  one.  The  success  of  the 
World  Revolution  depends  on  it  much  more  than  on 
any  other." 

These  people  are  mad,  one  might  be  induced  to  say. 
Just  wait  a  while  with  your  judgment.  There  was  a 
method  in  that  madness.  At  the  moment  when  these 


102     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

words  were  being  pronounced,  the  German  Army  was 
already  demoralized,  and  on  November  11,  the  Armis- 
tice was  concluded.  What  a  chance  for  a  "World  Revo- 
lution" to  follow!  "Never  before,"  said  Lenin  in  the 
speech  just  mentioned,  "was  the  universal  proletarian 
revolution  as  close  as  it  is  now."  A  few  days  later, 
Zinoviev  seconded  him:  "The  bankers  of  France  and 
of  London  will  soon  learn  that  a  revolution  in  Berlin 
is  not  a  feast  but  a  momenta  mori  to  remind  them  of 
their  coming  perdition."  And  they  prepared  for  the 
spring  of  1919  an  extensive  scheme  for  revolutionizing 
the  whole  of  middle  Europe. 

Millions  of  Russian  roubles  were  rushed  to  Germany, 
in  order  to  promote  the  revolutionary  movement, 
through  the  new  Russian  "Ambassador"  in  Berlin,  Mr. 
Joffe.  After  the  Bolshevist  literature  was  discovered 
in  a  diplomatic  courier's  bag,  Mr.  Joffe  had  to  go  (No- 
vember 5,  1918).  But  in  December  another,  unofficial 
envoy  to  the  German  proletarians,  Mr.  Radek.  came, 
and  in  January,  1919,  he  concluded  a  formal  "treaty" 
directly  with  Liebknecht  himself.  By  the  terms  of  his 
treaty,  Lenin  undertook  to  recognize  Liebknecht  as 
President  of  the  German  Soviet  Republic,  to  furnish 
important  funds  for  Spartacist  propaganda  and  to 
order  Soviet  armies  to  take  the  offensive  and  cross  the 
German  frontier  in  support  of  a  simultaneous  Spar- 
tacist rising  in  Berlin.  These  were  the  same  Red  armies 
concerning  which  negotiations  had  been  carried  on  a 
year  before  between  Trotsky  and  Colonel  Raymond 
Robbins  for  America  and  Captain  Sadoul  for  France,  in 
order  to  get  Allied  assistance  and  Allied  instructors,  to 
fight  Germany.  They  now  were  to  be  used  indeed  to 
fight  Germany — but  with  the  aim  of  imposing  com- 
munist law  on  Europe.  Liebknecht,  on  his  part, 


FOREIGN  POLICY  OF  BOLSHEVIKS     103 

pledged  himself  to  establish  a  Soviet  Government  in 
Germany  immediately  upon  his  advent  to  power,  to 
raise  a  Red  Army  of  500,000  men  to  be  placed  under 
the  supreme  command  of  Trotsky  and  observe  faith- 
fully and  put  into  practice  all  the  teachings  of  Lenin's 
doctrine.  After  a  successful  revolution  in  Hungary, 
in  March,  1919,  another  treaty  was  concluded  between 
Lenin  and  Bela  Kun,  his  Hungarian  nominee,  accord- 
ing to  which  "up  to  the  time  of  the  other  European 
States  going  over  to  the  Soviet  regime"  mutual  mili- 
tary and  material  assistance  was  to  be  accorded ;  move- 
ments of  troops  were  to  be  as  a  preliminary  concerted 
"among  the  different  Soviet  States."  An  attack  was 
designated  against  "the  Entente,  and  especially  Po- 
land and  Rumania."  When  on  February  12,  Radek 
was  arrested,  in  his  Spartacist-Bolshevist  propaganda 
bureau  in  Wilmersdorf  (Berlin),  more  proofs  were 
found  that  "a  great  Bolshevist  revolutionary  stroke 
throughout  Germany  had  been  planned  to  take  place  in 
the  spring,  whilst  at  the  same  time  a  Bolshevik  army 
was  to  attack  Germany  on  the  Eastern  frontier."  This 
news  was  confirmed  from  Moscow,  via  Helsingfors.  A 
Red  army  of  150,000  men  was  to  be  prepared  in  all 
haste  to  invade  Germany  at  the  end  of  April  or  the  mid- 
dle of  May  via  Poland  and  Courland.  The  next  step 
was — to  put  on  a  war  footing  several  hundred  thou- 
sands of  Russian  war  prisoners,  to  take  the  line  of  the 
Elbe.  This  plan  was  said  to  have  been  worked  out  by 
a  German  major  a  certain  Busch  a  former  prisoner 
who  had  declared  himself  a  communist  and  played  a 
prominent  role  in  Moscow.  It  is  interesting  to  compare 
with  this  news,  the  boastful  declarations  of  the  Hun- 
garian leaders  after  their  revolution.  "In  three  weeks," 
they  were  saying,  "we  shall  have  150,000  perfectly 


104     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

equipped,  trained  men.  In  six  weeks  we  expect  to 
have  500,000  men  trained.  .  .  .  We  are  surrounded  with 
discontented  peoples.  .  .  .  We  shall  start  with  Czecho- 
slovakia. .  .  .  Then  comes  Rumania's  turn  .  .  .  Jugo- 
slavia will  follow  .  .  .  ;  in  three  months  Italy  will 
come  over  to  us.  On  April  8,  there  will  be  a  joint  meet- 
ing of  Workmen's  and  Soldiers'  Councils  in  Berlin.  We 
have  absolutely  certain  information  that  Germany  will 
adopt  Bolshevism.  .  .  .  How  long  do  you  think  France 
will  hold  out?  .  .  .  Then  will  come  England's  turn. 
.  .  .  We  have  every  scrap  of  paper  ready  for  Czecho- 
slovakia, Rumania,  Bulgaria,  Italy,  France  and  Eng- 
land. No  country  will  be  able  to  hold  out  against  us." 
Bolshevist  preparations  for  the  Spring  of  1919  were 
not  confined  to  the  West  of  Europe.  A  revolution  was 
also  expected  to  take  place  at  that  very  time  in  the 
East,  and  especially  in  India.  The  Soviet  official  paper, 
the  Pravda  (The  Truth),  is  responsible  for  the  state- 
ment that  4,000,000  copies  of  pamphlets  were  published 
by  a  special  "Bureau  of  Mussulman  Communist  Organ- 
izations," during  the  first  ten  months  of  1918,  in  the 
Tatar,  Turkish,  Kirghiz,  Sart  and  Hindu  languages. 
At  the  same  tune  explosives  and  money  were  sent  to 
Bombay  by  the  Bolshevist  representatives  in  Stock- 
holm, via  London.  A  certain  "Indian  professor,"  May- 
avlevi  Mohammed  Baranutulla,  a  former  German  agent 
in  Afghanistan  during  the  war,  formally  declared  in 
Moscow  that  "in  the  normal  course  of  events  this 
summer  (1919)  will  prove  decisive  in  the  liberation  of 
India."  Afghanistan  was  considered  to  be  "of  primary 
importance  for  the  propaganda  in  Asia,"  just  like  Hun- 
gary in  Europe.  The  hopes  of  the  Bolsheviks  ran 
especially  high  when  the  new  Afghan  Ameer,  Amanul- 
lah  declared  (in  May)  war  on  England.  Although  the 


FOREIGN  POLICY  OF  BOLSHEVIKS     105 

Ameer  was  forced  to  ask  for  peace,  less  than  a  month 
after  the  opening  of  hostilities,  the  negotiations  were 
continued  between  Kabul  and  Moscow.  As  late  as 
August,  1919,  the  Muscovite  diplomatists  addressed  a 
note  to  the  Ameer,  to  inform  him  of  the  advance  of 
their  World  Revolution.  "The  successes  of  our  troops 
in  the  East,"  they  declared,  "hold  out  the  promise  that 
we  shall  soon  join  forces  with  the  Siberian  revolution. 
Despite  all  difficulties,  we  can  safely  say  that  victory 
will  be  ours,  not  only  in  Russia,  but  on  an  international 
scale." 

It  is  not  necessary  to  narrate  in  detail,  how  and  why 
all  these  great  schemes  fell  flat.  It  is  sufficient  to  men- 
tion that  the  invasion  of  Germany  through  the  border 
states  did  not  materialize,  three  successive  uprisings  in 
Berlin  were  stifled  by  Noske,  Liebknecht  was  mur- 
dered, Soviet  rule  in  Hungary  was  liquidated,  revolu- 
tionary outbursts  in  Vienna  and  in  Slovakia  were  stifled. 
Red  armies,  prepared  to  invade  the  Western  frontier, 
were  diverted  to  the  side  of  the  internal  fronts  in  the 
North,  in  the  East  and  in  the  South,  where  "white 
armies"  of  the  Archangel  Government,  Kolchak  and 
Denikin  were  advancing.  The  first  year  of  the  World 
Revolution,  1919,  thus  passed  without  realizing  the 
Bolshevist  aspirations.  But  at  the  same  time  it  helped 
to  disclose  just  how  widely  spread  their  schemes  were 
and  how  active  the  Bolshevist  propaganda  and  diplo- 
macy were  hi  pursuing  these  schemes. 

Facing  all  these  preparations  which,  of  course,  could 
not  be  kept  entirely  secret,  what  was  the  attitude  of 
the  Allied  Powers? 

The  Allied  diplomacy  toward  Russia  since  the  Bol- 
shevist coup  d'etat  has  passed  through  three  stages, 
each  distinctly  different  from  the  other.  The  first  stage 


106     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

lasted  from  November,  1917,  to  March,  1918, — the 
time  of  the  signing  of  the  Brest- Litovsk  peace.  The 
second  stage  followed  after  the  Bolshevist  peace  with 
Germany  and  its  end  came  with  the  Allied  armistice  of 
November  11,  1918.  The  third  stage  begins  after  the 
armistice. 

During  the  first  two  periods  the  Allied  policy  was 
actuated  by  the  interests  of  the  World  War.  As  long 
as  there  was  hope  that  the  Bolsheviks  would  fight  on 
against  Germany,  or  that  the  Brest-Litovsk  peace  would 
not  be  ratified  by  the  Soviets,  or  that  at  least  after  the 
ratification  the  struggle  against  Germany  would  re- 
commence, the  Allied  Powers  kept  in  contact  with  the 
Bolsheviks  and  promised  them  help  and  support.  For 
that  aim  a  sort  of  diplomatists'  in  partibus  infidelium 
was  used.  It  was  Captain  Sadoul  who,  for  France, 
daily  visited  Trotsky  at  Smolny,1  and  wrote  long  re- 
ports to  Mr.  Albert  Thomas,  which  afterwards  were 
published.  Mr.  Raymond  Robbins,  the  head  of  the 
American  Red  Cross,  was  used  for  the  same  purpose 
by  Ambassador  Francis.  Finally,  the  British  Foreign 
Office  worked  through  Mr.  Lockhart.  On  December 
2,  1917,  Sadoul  arranged  for  an  interview  between 
Trotsky  and  Mr.  Noulens  at  the  French  Embassy,  and 
both  parted  "pleased  with  one  another,"  after  a  two 
hours'  conversation.  On  January  2,  1918,  Col.  Robbins 
obtained  from  Mr.  Francis  a  signed  statement,  promis- 
ing every  kind  of  assistance  and  even  a  recommenda- 
tion to  his  Government  for  a  formal  de  facto  recogni- 
tion, should  the  Bolsheviks  continue  the  war  and  "seri- 
ously conduct  hostilities"  against  Germany.  Sadoul 
knew  perfectly  well  for  what  purpose  the  Bolsheviks 

1  Smolny  Women's  College  was  used  by  the  Bolsheviks  as  their 
Headquarters. 


FOREIGN  POLICY  OF  BOLSHEVIKS     107 

were  trying  to  reorganize  the  army.  "Freed  from  war," 
he  said  in  his  letter  of  January  11,  1918,  "they  will 
make  every  effort  to  fight  against  the  internal  and  ex- 
ternal bourgeoisie,  they  will  organize  Russia,  and  will 
prepare  in  peace  time  an  army  which  will  afterwards 
assist  the  proletariat  of  Central  and  Western  Europe 
to  rid  themselves  of  the  old  order."  Mr.  Raymond  Rob- 
bins  also  admitted  subsequently,  before  the  investiga- 
tion Committee  of  the  United  States  Senate,  that  he 
"from  the  beginning  was  in  full  understanding  of  that 
purpose  (of  the  World  Revolution),  but  encouraged 
the  Bolsheviks  as  the  first  attack  was  to  be  directed 
against  Germany. 

At  the  same  time,  however,  the  Allied  powers  were 
preparing  for  other  measures  to  paralyze  the  Bolshe- 
vist peace  with  Germany.  Beginning  with  December, 
1919,  they  were  engaged  in  parleys  for  intervention,  to 
build  up  a  so-called  "Eastern  Front"  somewhere  in 
Russia,  in  order  at  any  rate  to  divert  the  German  Army 
from  being  transferred  to  the  Western  Front,  against 
France.  Intervention — this  was  the  meaning  of  the 
new  stage  which  was  to  commence  as  soon  as  the  hope 
for  using  the  Bolshevist  armies  against  Germany  was 
definitely  lost.  The  British  landed  in  Murmansk  and 
in  Archangel,  and  the  Japanese  in  Vladivostok.  For  a 
time  the  Allies  succeeded  in  combining  that  policy  with 
preserving  a  friendly  attitude  towards  the  Soviets. 
They  even  continued  promising  assistance  to  them. 
But  as  early  as  the  end  of  April  this  ambiguous  atti- 
tude became  impossible.  "Is  it  our  intention  to  inter- 
vene without  the  Soviet  or  against  them?"  Sadoul 
asked  on  April  30,  in  behalf  of  Chicherin  and  Trotsky. 
On  June  28,  and  on  July  13,  Chicherin  protested  against 
the  advance  of  the  British  troops  southwards  from 


108     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Murmansk.  On  June  13,  the  Soviet  complained  that 
French  officers  had  taken  part  in  the  "White  Guard" 
mutiny  of  the  Czecho-Slovaks.  And  indeed,  at  that 
very  time  the  first  anti-Bolshevist  front  was  formed 
at  Samara  and  the  first  anti-Bolshevist  government 
appeared  ("The  Committee  of  the  Members  of  the  All- 
Russian  Constituent  Assembly").  Thenceforth,  the 
Allied  effort  turned  to  that  side.  The  in  partibus  diplo- 
matists had  to  be  dismissed :  Sadoul  turned  Bolshevik, 
Robbins  was  recalled,  and  Lockhart  began  to  work  for 
an  anti-Bolshevist  movement. 

We  shall  have  to  return  to  that  second  stage  of  the 
Allied  policy  on  another  occasion.  That  stage  did  not 
last  long.  The  main  purpose  of  the  Allied  interven- 
tion on  the  new  "Eastern  front,"  namely  the  diversion 
of  Germany's  military  forces  to  the  East,  disappeared 
with  Germany's  defeat.  On  August  9,  the  United 
States  Ambassador  for  the  last  time  described  the  Rus- 
sian people  as  an  "Ally  against  a  common  enemy." 
After  the  armistice  of  November  11,  1918,  there  was 
no  "common  enemy"  any  more.  The  enemy  of  the 
Entente  was  defeated.  The  enemy  of  Russia,  Bol- 
shevism, was  considered  as  the  "common  enemy"  of  all 
the  "capitalist"  States  only  by  the  Bolsheviks  them- 
selves. 

However,  the  Bolshevist  diplomacy  was  sure,  that 
the  "World  Capitalism"  would  understand  that.  The 
Bolsheviks  firmly  believed  that  directly  after  the  armis- 
tice the  "capitalist"  powers  would  turn  their  front 
against  the  World  Revolution.  Mr.  Lenin  was  heard 
to  say  that  "the  situation  was  never  so  dangerous."  As 
they  knew  the  situation  very  well,  they  expected  the 
blow  to  come — not  from  the  North  or  the  East,  but 
from  the  South,  as  the  most  vulnerable  point.  Trotsky 


FOREIGN  POLICY  OF  BOLSHEVIKS     109 

declared  beforehand  (October  12)  that  the  Allies  would 
pass  through  the  Straits  to  Southern  Russia  and  that 
the  Don  Region  would  "become  the  wedge  of  the 
World  Revolution."  Mr.  Wilson's  project  to  build  a 
"League  of  Nations,"  they  also  explained  in  that  light. 
Lenin's  comment  was  that  here  the  world  capitalism 
was  going  to  form  its  own  "International," — a  counter- 
part to  the  "Third  International"  of  Moscow.  Two 
"fronts"  opposed  to  each  other  in  a  mortal  grip:  Lenin's 
front  and  President  Wilson's  front.  Such  was  for  a 
time  the  favorite  theme  of  the  Red  press  editorials. 

Great  was  the  astonishment  of  the  Bolshevist  leaders 
when,  instead  of  an  Allied  armed  force  coming  through 
the  Straits,  there  came  to  Moscow  from  the  Paris  Peace 
Conference  on  January  22,  1919,  a  proposal  to  come 
and  sit  at  the  same  table  with  the  "bourgeois"  diplo- 
matists and  to  discuss  the  question  of  peace.  This 
sounded  rather  strange,  and  the  first  moment  the  Bol- 
sheviks thought  they  were  mistaken.  But  the  news 
was  confirmed,  and  the  Bolsheviks  decided  at  once  to 
make  use  of  the  unexpected  "respite."  Some  objec- 
tions were  raised  by  M.  M.  Zinoviev  and  Kam- 
enev.  Would  not,  they  wondered,  the  character 
of  the  Soviet  Republic  be  altered  and  eventu- 
ally destroyed  by  negotiations  with  "bourgeois" 
governments?  Lenin  had  a  ready  answer.  "Periods 
of  rest,"  he  said,  "are  necessary  for  the  successful  de- 
velopment of  the  Bolshevist  doctrine  throughout  the 
world.  .  .  .  After  having  conquered,  as  it  were,  two- 
thirds  of  the  enemy  territory,  we  must  interrupt  our 
offensive  in  order  to  establish  new  lines  of  communica- 
tion, organize  new  depots,  bring  up  more  heavy  guns, 
munitions,  fresh  reserves.  I  have  never  hesitated," 
he  went  on  to  say,  "to  come  to  terms  with  bourgeois 


110     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

governments  when  by  so  doing  I  could  weaken  the 
bourgeoisie  and  strengthen  the  proletariat  in  all  coun- 
tries. It  is  sound  strategy  in  war  to  postpone  opera- 
tions until  the  moral  disintegration  of  the  enemy 
renders  the  delivery  of  a  mortal  blow  possible.  .  .  .  We 
must  make  peace  not  only  with  the  Entente  but  also 
with  Poland,  Lithuania  and  the  Ukraine,  and  all  the 
other  forces  which  are  opposing  us  in  Russia.  We 
must  be  prepared  to  make  every  concession,  promise 
and  sacrifice  in  order  to  entice  our  foes  into  the  con- 
clusion of  this  peace.  .  .  .  We  shall  know  that  we  have 
but  concluded  a  truce  permitting  us  to  complete  our 
preparations  for  a  decisive  onslaught."  These  last 
words  are  confirmed  by  the  fact  that  at  that  very  mo- 
ment, on  January  23,  1919,  Lenin  was  sending  round 
an  invitation,  by  wireless,  to  all  revolutionary  "social- 
ists and  communists  of  the  Zimmerwald  and  Kienthal 
coloring"  to  come  to  Moscow  and  definitely  to  organ- 
ize the  "Third  International."  We  also  know  what 
provisions  were  taken  simultaneously  to  start  the  World 
Revolution  in  the  spring  of  1919.  Its  failure  to  materi- 
alize has  shown  that  Lenin's  "sound  strategy"  of  post- 
ponement and  truce  was  the  more  reasonable  one. 

That  policy  also  soon  became  the  policy  of  the 
Allies.  In  another  place  we  shall  come  back  to  their 
policy  of  intervention  on  the  anti-Bolshevist  side,  as  it 
reflected  itself  in  their  activities  in  1919.  We  shall 
then  see  the  causes  of  the  failure  of  that  line  of  con- 
duct, which,  however,  never  was  consistently  carried 
out.  As  a  result  of  that  failure,  the  year  1920  opened 
with  the  famous  decision  of  the  second  Paris  Confer- 
ence (January  17)  to  trade  with  the  Soviets  through 
the  cooperatives.  Two  other  policies  still  kept  running 
side  by  side  with  Mr.  Lloyd  George's  policy  of  rap- 


FOREIGN  POLICY  OF  BOLSHEVIKS     111 

prochement  with  the  Bolsheviks.  I  mean  Mr.  Clemen- 
ceau's  policy  of  the  "barbed  wire"  and  "sanitary  cor- 
don" around  Russia,  made  of  the  border  States,  and 
Mr.  Winston  Churchill's  policy  of  intervention.  As  a 
consequence,  the  Supreme  Council  in  Paris  at  the  same 
session  recognized  the  de  jacto  independence  of  three 
Transcaucasian  Republics,  while  the  British  squadron 
was  ordered  to  proceed  from  Malta  to  the  Black  Sea, 
in  order  to  observe  the  movements  of  the  Red  Army  in 
the  direction  of  Persia,  India  and  China. 

Out  of  the  three  policies  mentioned,  it  was  Mr.  Lloyd 
George's  policy  that  survived.  It  is  true,  that  Great 
Britain  remained  alone  in  her  desire  to  conclude  a  trade 
agreement  with  the  Bolshevist  Russia.  The  French 
and  Belgian  delegates  systematically  emphasized  the 
hopelessness  of  trade  relations  with  Russia,  as  long  as 
the  Bolshevist  rule  continued  to  exist.  It  was  also 
clear  from  the  very  beginning  that  at  least  two  of  the 
three  conditions  which  Mr.  Lloyd  George  put  to  the 
head  of  the  Bolshevist  mission  in  London,  Mr.  Krassin, 
would  never  be  complied  with  by  the  Bolsheviks.  Mr. 
Lloyd  George  insisted  on  cessation  of  the  anti-British 
propaganda  by  the  Bolsheviks  and  on  non-interference 
with  the  British  interests  in  the  East.  At  the  same 
time,  an  open  communist  propaganda  subsidized  with 
Bolshevist  money  was  being  carried  on  in  London,  and 
the  Red  Armies  were  occupying  Azerbaidjan,  making 
an  incursion  into  Persia  negotiating  with  Afghanistan 
and  conspiring  with  Indian  leaders.  At  a  later  date 
they  flooded  Georgia  and  Armenia,  while,  on  the 
Western  frontier,  they  were  approaching  Warsaw. 
The  Bolshevist  diplomacy  scorned  the  Allied  notes 
and  twice  refused  the  invitation  to  come  to  Lon- 
don with  other  representatives  of  the  Border 


112     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

States  (July  11  and  28).  On  their  part,  they 
proposed  to  convene  a  conference  of  the  Allied 
Powers  on  an  equal  footing  with  the  Bolsheviks.  As 
a  condition  of  peace  with  Poland,  the  Bolshevist  di- 
plomacy proposed  the  organization  of  a  civic  militia 
of  workmen.  It  meant  coming  back  to  the  basic  slogan 
of  a  communist  world  revolution:  "Disarm  the 
bourgeoisie,  arm  the  proletarians." 

Nothing  short  of  a  defeat  of  the  Red  Army  at  the 
hands  of  the  Poles  was  needed  to  change  that  attitude 
of  the  Bolshevist  diplomatists — and  also  that  of  the 
British  Premier.  Mr.  Lloyd  George  finally  decided  to 
send  away  from  London  the  Bolshevist  Commissary, 
Mr.  Kamenev,  who  was  guilty  of  the  regular  Bolshe- 
vist tricks,  and  he  suspended  the  "political"  side  of  his 
negotiations.  However,  trade  negotiations  were  re- 
sumed in  September,  1920,  and  after  fully  nine  months 
the  British-Soviet  Trade  treaty  was  finally  concluded. 
On  the  same  day,  Sir  Robert  Horn  handed  Mr.  Krassin 
a  paper  disclosing  some  of  the  aspects  of  the  Bolshevist 
propaganda  in  Asia.  Simultaneously  the  Bolshevist 
diplomacy  counted  some  minor  successes  in  the  Scandi- 
navian countries,  Switzerland  and  Italy. 

How  did  all  this  affect  the  basic  Bolshevist  aspira- 
tion for  world  revolution? 

We  have  a  series  of  Mr.  Lenin's  and  his  friends' 
avowals  as  to  their  mistakes  in  counting  on  an  im- 
mediate advent  of  the  world  revolution.  But  we  have 
none,  as  to  the  presumed  change  of  the  principle  itself. 

"Yes,  perhaps  we  were  wrong,"  Mr.  Zinoviev  said 
at  the  International  Communist  Congress  in  July, 
1920.  "Not  one  year,  but  two  or  three  will  be  neces- 
sary for  all  Europe  to  become  Soviet.  You  still  have 
a  period  of  grace,  before  you  will  be  destroyed."  On 


FOREIGN  POLICY  OF  BOLSHEVIKS     113 

August  23,  1920,  Mr.  Lenin  gave  voice  to  the  same 
opinion — with  the  same  underlying  hope.  "We  have 
learned  to  understand,"  he  said,  "during  the  last  three 
years,  that  basing  ourselves  on  an  international  revolu- 
tion does  not  mean  calculating  on  a  definite  date,  and 
that  the  increasing  rapidity  of  development  may  bring  a 
revolution  in  the  spring  (of  1921)  or  it  may  not.  .  .  . 
We  must,  therefore,  know  how  to  adapt  our  activity  to 
the  mutual  class  relations  within  our  own  and  other 
countries,  that  we  may  be  able  to  retain  the  dictator- 
ship of  the  proletariat  for  a  long  time  and,  at  least 
gradually,  to  cure  all  the  ills  and  crises  besetting  us." 
At  any  rate,  "the  world  revolution  is  growing  stronger, 
while  the  economic  crisis  in  Europe  is  getting  worse 
at  the  same  time."  .  .  .  "Of  course,  the  world  revolu- 
tion has  made  a  great  step  forward,  in  comparison  with 
the  last  year." 

World  revolution  was  thus  not  lost  sight  of.  But 
the  Bolshevist  diplomacy  now  had  a  much  more  diffi- 
cult task  to  solve.  It  had  to  "adapt  itself"  to  changing 
conditions  of  work,  instead  of  imposing  its  own  solu- 
tions. And  it  had  to  use  every  opportunity  to  speed  up 
the  cause  of  the  world  revolution,  and  at  the  same 
time  be  ready  to  extend  its  activity  "for  a  long  time." 
The  new  instructions  to  the  Bolshevist  diplomatists, 
for  1921,  which  were  issued  by  Chicherin,  were  formu- 
lated accordingly.  Their  basic  motive  was:  let  us 
foment  foreign  discords  and  conflicts  while  trying  to 
divert  their  attention  for  a  while  from  Bolshevist  Rus- 
sia. "We  must  see  to  it  that  the  center  of  gravity  is 
transferred  from  us  to  the  West.  Let  European  diplo- 
mats break  their  heads  over  the  solution  of  problems 
that  cannot  be  solved.  We  shall  always  manage  to 
remain  the  decisive  factor.  It  is  not  to  our  benefit  that 


114     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

we  should  be  feared  and  our  power  exaggerated.  It  is 
best  for  us  to  be  temporarily  in  the  shadow.  Official 
recognition  of  our  representatives,  development  of 
trade  relations,  gradual  dissemination  of  propaganda 
and  the  strengthening  of  our  authority  among  the  prole- 
tarian masses — these  are  the  aims  of  our  work."  Ac- 
cordingly, it  was  up  to  the  Bolshevist  diplomatists  to 
bide  their  time  and  in  the  meanwhile  not  be  sparing  of 
concessions.  "Germany  is  in  need  of  moral  support? 
We  will  furnish  that.  Germany  needs  security  for  her 
eastern  border?  That  shall  be  promised  her.  France 
wants  to  see  us  helpless?  Let  us  show  her  our  help- 
lessness. England  wants  to  exploit  us?  We  shall 
grant  her  every  opportunity  to  do  so."  At  the  same 
time  no  opportunity  to  breed  an  international  conflict 
must  be  left  unheeded.  Mr.  Chicherin  suggested  to  his 
missions  abroad  the  following  combinations  as  worthy 
of  consideration.  "British-Japanese,  as  a  threat  to 
America;  British-German,  as  a  threat  to  France; 
Italian-Greek  as  a  counter-balance  to  the  policies  of 
England  and  France  in  the  Near  East;  Polish-French 
as  a  direct  threat  to  Germany;  Czech-Rumanian  as  a 
threat  to  Hungary,"  etc.  "Should  circumstances  inter- 
fere with  our  activity  in  the  West,  it  will  then  be  nec- 
essary to  transfer  the  center  of  our  diplomatic  work 
to  the  Balkan  Peninsula  and  to  capture  the  sphere  of 
influence  in  the  Near  East." 

The  Bolshevist  agents  abroad  worked  accordingly. 
I  am  in  a  position  to  give  you  a  summary  of  their  ob- 
servations and  suggestions  to  the  central  government, 
as  given  in  their  reports  in  the  summer  months  of  1921. 
In  substance,  it  was  as  follows: 

So  far  as  the  West  is  concerned  the  Bolshevist  ob- 
servers know  that  the  time  for  a  direct  world  revolu- 


FOREIGN  POLICY  OF  BOLSHEVIKS     115 

tion  is  now  over.  The  economic  crisis  upon  which  they 
were  building  their  hopes  is  gradually  settling  down. 
The  situation  is  no  longer  catastrophic  for  interna- 
tional capitalism.  The  post-war  crisis  had  caught  the 
working  men  unprepared,  and  they  had  let  the  mo- 
ment pass.  Now  they  are  even  more  disorganized  than 
a  year  ago,  in  spite  of  the  activity  of  the  Third  Inter- 
national. The  observer  might  add  that  the  disorganiza- 
tion has  come  not  "in  spite"  of,  but  as  a  consequence 
of  Lenin's  orders  to  the  Third  International.  In  a 
word,  the  chance  for  attacking  capitalism  at  the  mo- 
ment of  its  greatest  weakness  has  gone. 

This  is  especially  true  as  far  as  Germany  is  concerned. 
This  country,  according  to  the  Bolshevist  observers, 
has  shown  endurance,  energy  and  steadiness  at  work 
to  a  quite  astonishing  degree.  In  Austria  the  situation 
remains  critical,  but  it  is  better  than  a  year  ago.  In 
Hungary  as  well  as  in  Bulgaria  the  national  economy 
has  now  been  brought  to  a  settled  condition.  Great 
Britain  labors  under  an  unprecedented  crisis  of  unem- 
ployment, but  the  Government  keeps  the  nation  in- 
formed on  all  the  difficulties  of  the  situation,  and,  as 
a  result,  the  confidence  of  the  population  in  its  Gov- 
ernment is  not  at  all  shattered.  In  France,  the  near  fu- 
ture is  gloomy.  Confidence  and  mutual  understanding 
between  the  nation  and  the  Government  are  here  lack- 
ing. Finance  and  economy  are  in  a  bad  condition.  The 
only  hope  lies  in  the  resumption  of  trade  with  Russia, 
France's  chief  pre-war  customer.  But  this  issue  is 
precluded  by  wrong  politics.  Italy  is  ready  to  trade 
with  everybody  on  a  non-political  basis.  But  all  the 
hopes  which  were  founded  on  the  emotional  receptivity 
of  the  working  class  were  deluded.  The  revolutionary 
enthusiasm  of  the  Italian  communists  did  not  stand 


116     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

the  test  of  the  first  serious  resistance — by  the  fascisti. 
The  bourgeoisie  organized  themselves  for  self-defense, 
and  the  communist  groups  were  obliged  to  change  their 
open  propaganda  for  underground  work.  Czecho-Slo- 
vakia  has  proved  a  much  stronger  organism  than  was 
to  be  expected.  The  reason  is — a  deeply-rooted  instinct 
for  private  property  (sic).  A  deep  mutual  understand- 
ing between  the  working  men  and  employers  precludes 
any  possibility  of  success  for  the  communist  propa- 
ganda. National  conflicts  are  also  eliminated  by  a  great 
degree  of  national  toleration.  Jugo-Slavia,  on  the  con- 
trary, is  a  State  of  the  lowest  culture.  But  it  is  an 
agricultural  country,  and  no  class  antagonisms  are  here 
possible.  The  social  movement  on  a  communist  basis, 
of  course,  could  not  strike  roots  in  such  a  country. 
However,  national  conflicts  are  active  here  and  can  be 
exploited  in  the  future.  Rumania  is  as  rich  and  as 
patriarchal  as  she  was  before  the  war,  and  is  as  much 
lacking  in  any  industrial  development.  But  outbursts 
of  national  hatred  are  unavoidable,  as  a  consequence  of 
the  recent  annexations  of  the  populations  which  are 
much  more  developed  and  receptive  for  social  teach- 
ings than  the  original  Rumanian  stock.  Poland's  situa- 
tion is  still  more  compromised,  and  a  crisis  is  here  un- 
avoidable, as  a  combined  result  of  the  aggressive  im- 
perialism of  the  leading  political  parties,  the  intense 
hatred  of  the  annexed  populations  towards  the  Poles, 
the  high  degree  of  class  consciousness  of  the  Polish 
proletariat  and  the  extremely  poor  economic  conditions. 
The  foregoing  may  lead  to  the  inference  that  noth- 
ing important  could  have  been  done  in  the  West  of 
Europe  by  the  communist  organizations.  They  were 
helping  the  Irish  revolutionary  movement,  they  sup- 
ported strikes  in  Great  Britain,  carried  on  communist 


FOREIGN  POLICY  OF  BOLSHEVIKS     117 

propaganda  in  the  Navy,  in  Manchester  and  Birming- 
ham. In  France — they  transferred  their  activity  to 
the  French  African  colonies,  in  order  to  tender  their 
hand  to  the  revolutionary  communists  in  Turkey  and 
thus  "close"  the  circle.  They  admit  that  their  work 
in  Germany  was  quite  unsuccessful  and  that  the  at- 
tempt at  an  uprising  in  Hall  (in  March,  1921)  was  a 
grave  mistake  which  caused  the  collapse  of  the  whole 
organization.  "The  German  working  man  is  too  realis- 
tic and  only  then  does  he  decide  on  action  when  he 
clearly  sees  the  practical  consequence  of  his  step." 

You  see  that  the  Bolshevist  agents  in  Western  Eur- 
ope are  not  lacking  in  powers  of  observation.  Their 
views  as  to  the  chances  of  communist  success  in  the 
West  are  thoroughly  pessimistic.  But  it  is  quite  differ- 
ent with  the  situation  in  the  East. 

Of  course,  even  here  they  no  longer  hope  for  immedi- 
ate outbreaks.  They  are  especially  careful  that  their 
"trump  card,"  a  revolution  in  India,  should  not  be 
spoilt  by  any  premature  and  thoughtless  attempt.  But 
they  see  great  opportunities  for  the  near  future:  not 
in  the  sense  of  an  extensive  social  movement,  but  as 
the  consequence  of  a  widely  spread  pro-Turkish  and 
Pan-Islamic  propaganda.  They  report  that  they  were 
here  "obliged  to  renounce  a  forcible  planting  of  com- 
munist ideas,  and  have  had  to  cover  the  aim  of  the 
Communist  International  under  a  nationalist  cloak." 

They  are  very  well  satisfied  with  the  result.  "In 
1919,"  they  say,  "we  had  great  difficulties  in  defending 
Turkestan  from  the  British  influence.  In  1921  we  are 
out  to  attack  the  capitalist  buttresses  in  India."  After 
their  first  congress  at  Samarkand  and  their  second  con- 
gress at  Baku,  after  their  last  diplomatic  negotiations 
at  Trebizond,  which  ended  with  the  conclusion  of  a 


118     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

treaty  between  Afghanistan  and  the  Government  of 
Angora  (April  25,  1921),  they  feel  sure  they  have 
reached  the  stage  of  "a  united  and  powerful  Mussul- 
man movement  of  the  down-trodden  nation,  which  will 
deal  the  final  blow  to  the  domination  of  capital  and 
destroy  its  colonial  basis." 

They  particularly  appreciate  the  Indian  national 
movement,  for  the  reason  that  here  they  find  them- 
selves in  their  own  atmosphere  of  social  and  class  strug- 
gle. However,  they  are  not  at  all  induced  by  the  reports 
of  their  communist  organizations  in  India  to  believe 
that  the  outbreak  must  be  undertaken  just  now.  They 
believe,  on  the  contrary,  that  a  certain  time  must  pass 
before  the  crisis  will  be  reached  and  "the  narrow  na- 
tionalistic movement  based  on  religious  prejudices  and 
on  survivals  of  olden  times,  will  be  diluted  in  the 
powerful  stream  of  a  "proletarian  uprising." 

Until  then,  they  appreciate  highly  the  part  played 
by  the  Turkish  national  Government  in  Angora,  and 
they  state  that  in  spite  of  all  exertions  of  the  British 
diplomacy,  in  spite  even  of  the  "partial  successes"  of 
Great  Britain  in  Egypt  and  on  the  Afghan  frontier,  as 
well  as  in  Southwestern  Persia,  they  nevertheless  suc- 
ceeded in  arranging  for  cooperation  with  Angora.  They 
are  especially  proud  of  having  finished  with  the  double 
game  of  Afghanistan  and  having  caused  the  Afghans 
to  recognize  the  political  supremacy  of  Turkey  in  the 
great  Mohammedan  movement.  The  defensive  alliance 
against  foreign  aggression,  covered  by  points  4  and  8 
of  the  Treaty,  "annuls  all  British  achievements  in  the 
Afghan  question  and  creates  a  situation  full  of  menace 
for  the  British  domination  of  India." 

You  see  that  in  spite  of  their  skepticism  concerning 
the  West,  the  Bolshevist  diplomatists  are  still  very 


FOREIGN  POLICY  OF  BOLSHEVIKS     119 

hopeful  so  far  as  the  general  situation  is  concerned. 
Their  analysis  of  the  situation  in  the  East  makes  them 
again  not  only  optimists,  but  visionaries.  They  predict 
that  as  a  consequence  of  a  general  shifting  of  the  World 
politics,  from  Europe  to  Asia,  the  Pan-Islamic  move- 
ment will  necessarily  come  to  the  forefront.  They  are 
quite  sure  as  to  their  friendly  contact  with  the  Turkish 
national  assembly  at  Angora,  and  they  think  they  can 
even  have  "a  certain  influence  on  the  trend  of  events  in 
Asia  Minor  and  in  Eastern  Africa.  "At  present,"  they 
declare,  "the  whole  territory  from  the  Ganges  to  the 
Nile  may  be  looked  upon  as  a  united  front  of  enslaved 
nations,  fighting  against  their  oppressors  for  liberty  and 
national  civilization.  The  spiritual  and  the  organiz- 
ing center  of  the  movement,  which  embraces  hundreds 
of  millions  of  Moslems,  finds  itself  in  Angora,  and  its 
branches  are  in  Samarkand  and  in  Cairo.  .  .  .  The 
diplomatic  front,  on  which  Soviet  Russia  defends  the 
oppressed  nations  from  the  greedy  hands  of  Interna- 
tional capital,  surrounds  the  powers  of  the  Entente 
with  a  regular  half-circle  from  Riga  to  Morocco.  In  the 
very  next  days  this  front  threatens  to  be  converted  into 
a  military  front.  The  weakest  point  for  Eastern  capi- 
tal, as  represented  by  the  Governments  of  the  Entente, 
appears  to  be  the  Eastern  frontier  of  (Western)  Europe, 
round  which  the  very  next  events  will  take  place,  which 
will  mean  the  beginning  of  the  end  for  the  capitalistic 
hegemony  of  the  victorious  powers  and  the  era  of  lib- 
eration for  the  working  masses." 

This  is  how,  in  a  long  roundabout  way,  the  Bolshevist 
diplomatists  have  succeeded  in  regaining  their  initial 
enthusiasm  about  the  imminent  World  Revolution. 
"Thoughts  that  breathe  and  words  that  burn"  are  in- 
herent in  their  political  and  social  creed.  It  is  irrele- 


120     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

vant  that  they  have  taken  their  new  commandments 
from  another  people's  catechism.  They  do  not  ask 
themselves  just  what  has  the  Pan-Islamist  movement 
in  common  with  the  communist  ideal.  They  want 
something  grandiose,  and  here  is  new  stuff  for  glow- 
ing rhetoric.  The  light  comes  from  Asia! 

I  am  not  going  to  discuss  the  problems  here  raised, — 
which  are  very  serious  indeed.  It  would  make  me  di- 
gress very  far  from  Russian  Bolshevism.  My  only  aim 
has  been  to  show  that  now,  as  four  years  ago,  the  Bol- 
sheviks still  stick  to  their  great  illusion.  They  are 
ready  to  sacrifice  everything,  to  "make  every  conces- 
sion and  promise,"  hi  order  to  see  their  vision  material- 
ize and  to  stay  in  power  until  they  enter  their  promised 
land. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA. 

The  subject  of  this  chapter  is  as  important  for  a 
general  understanding  of  Russian  events  during  these 
four  last  years,  as  it  is  complicated.  Public  opinion 
on  the  anti-Bolshevist  Russia  has  been  hardly  less 
biased  than  on  the  Bolshevist  regime.  Of  course,  I 
shall  try  to  put  aside  current  popular  judgments  and  let 
facts  speak  by  themselves,  just  as  I  tried  to  do  so  con- 
cerning Bolshevism.  But  beside  that  danger  of  being 
— or  rather  seeming  to  be — partial,  there  are  other 
causes  which  make  the  subject  intricate.  Anti-Bolshe- 
vist Russia  was  not  one.  It  was  divided  in  at  least  two 
different  and  in  the  main  opposite  political  trends  which 
only  rarely  came  together.  We  saw  the  origin  of  their 
scission  in  the  chapter  which  explained  the  causes  of 
the  Bolshevist  victory.  The  non-socialist  current  held 
the  moderate  socialists  responsible  for  their  common 
defeat  by  the  Bolsheviks.  The  Kornilov  movement  in- 
tensified that  difference  of  attitudes,  as  it  was  directed 
against  moderate  socialism  and  morally  supported  by 
a  part  of  its  political  antagonists.  The  scission  weak- 
ened both  anti-Bolshevist  currents  equally,  and  made 
easier  the  Bolshevist  coup  d'etat. 

Common  defeat  brought  about  a  new  stage  of  rap- 
prochement. For  about  a  year  (November,  1917-No- 
vember,  1918)  both  the  socialist  and  non-socialist  cur- 

121 


122     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

rents  cooperated  against  Bolshevism.  We  shall  see 
that  the  growth  of  influence  of  the  military  non-Bol- 
shevist elements  marked  the  end  of  cooperation.  Dur- 
ing the  two  following  years,  1919-1920,  the  breach 
between  the  two  anti-Bolshevist  camps  became  irri- 
trievable  and  again,  as  in  1917,  the  scission  was  fol- 
lowed by  defeat.  The  situation  changed  for  the  fourth 
time,  when  the  military  anti-Bolshevist  elements  defi- 
nitely broke  down.  A  new  coalition  of  democratic  non- 
socialist  and  moderate  socialist  groups  has  become  a 
fact  from  the  beginning  of  1921.  Further  events  will 
show  whether  the  reunion  of  democratic  anti-Bolshe- 
vist forces  will  be  lasting  and  will  lead  to  success. 

To  sum  up,  there  are  five  stages  in  the  relations  be- 
tween the  socialist  and  non-socialist  elements  of  anti- 
Bolshevist  Russia: 

1.  Coalition — March-August,  1917. 

2.  Scission— September-October,  1917. 

3.  Cooperation — November,  1917 — November,  1918. 

4.  Final  differentiation — November,  1918-December,  1920. 

5.  Coalition  of  democratic  elements — 1921. 

A  further  complication  is  due  to  the  fact  that  not 
only  the  mutual  relations  between  the  two  elements 
of  non-Bolshevist  Russia  were  changing,  but  that  at 
the  same  time  the  attitude  of  the  Allies  and  of  the 
people  of  Russia  towards  the  non-Bolshevist  Russia 
was  also  changing.  This  chapter  will  show  just  how 
and  why. 

In  the  midst  of  these  perpetually  changing  circum- 
stances my  personal  attitude  also  could  not  remain  in- 
variable. It  underwent  an  evolution,  and  to  explain 
it  to  the  reader  would  be  the  best  means  to  introduce 
him  to  the  exposition  of  facts. 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  123 

I  was  an  anti-Bolshevik  from  the  very  beginning  and 
I  still  am.  But  until  1920  I  belonged  to  that  group  of 
anti-Bolshevik  Russians  who  thought  it  possible  to  lib- 
erate Russia  by  an  armed  Russian  force,  with  the  mili- 
tary help  of  our  former  Allies.  I  no  longer  belong  to 
that  group. 

I  thought — and  I  still  think  it  now — that  Russia 
might  have  been  liberated  from  the  Bolshevist  yoke 
by  the  military  method  of  struggle  if  all  the  conditions 
necessary  for  success  had  been  duly  considered  and  real- 
ized in  time.  Unfortunately  this  was  not  the  case,  and 
what  was  possible  then  (1918-1919)  has  become  impos- 
sible since. 

There  were  three  chief  causes  which  turned  into  fail- 
ure what  might  have  been  a  success.  These  causes  are : 
(1)  the  insufficient  help  from  the  Allies;  (2)  the  reac- 
tionary policy  of  the  military  leaders  and  (3)  the  disap- 
pointment in  them  on  the  part  of  the  Russian  people. 

The  first  condition  for  success  which  did  not  materi- 
alize was  the  Allied  help.  I  mentioned  already  how 
wavering  and  uncertain  the  Allied  policy  was  towards 
Russia  in  distress.  Now  and  then  representative  states- 
men recalled  to  their  peoples  their  "obligations  of 
honor"  and  of  "mutual  loyalty"  towards  Russia.  They 
were  moral  obligations,  as  a  result  of  the  great  sacri- 
fices Russia  made  in  the  war,  but  they  were  also  legal 
obligations,  as  a  consequence  of  that  "one  treaty  which 
was  not  secret,  the  London  Pact  of  October  4,  1914, 
which  bound  the  Allied  nations  to  make  war  in  com- 
mon and  not  to  make  peace  except  in  unity"  (Mr. 
Winston  Churchill  in  the  Commons,  Nov.  5,  1919).  It 
was  understood  that  there  existed  an  "unbroken  con- 
tinuity between  the  position  held  by  the  Russia  anti- 
Bolshevist  leaders  and  that  position  held  by  their  (the 


124     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

British)  erstwhile  great  ally,  without  whose  aid  they 
never  could  have  won  the  war"  (the  same  speech  by 
Mr.  W.  Churchill).  Lord  Robert  Cecil  regarded  it  as 
"the  foundation  of  good  faith  and  of  the  possibility  of 
sincere  dealing  between  one  country  and  another,"  that 
"the  engagements  towards  Russia  shall  be  carried  out/* 
and  he  thought  that  "no  responsible  politician  could 
throw  doubt  on  this  principle  "  (May  16,  1917).  Sir 
Edward  Carson  once  more  solemnly  declared:  "We 
shall  not  abandon  Russia"  (October  26,  1917,  Le 
Temps}. 

We  shall  see  that  the  help  that  was  really  given  to 
anti-Bolshevist  Russia  on  the  basis  of  that  principle  of 
continuation  of  a  common  struggle  was  selfish  and  in- 
consistent. But  within  the  same  cabinet  there  was 
another  policy  which  paralyzed  even  such  inefficient 
help  as  was  actually  given.  It  was  this  policy,  the 
policy  of  Mr.  Lloyd  George,  which  finally  triumphed. 
It  was  the  policy  of  "hands  off  Russia"  which  for  a  long 
time  identified  itself  with  the  policy  of  the  Labor 
Party.  Far  from  helping  the  anti-Bolshevist  Russia 
on  the  principle  of  "unbroken  continuity,"  the  par- 
tisans of  that  policy  wished  to  break  the  continuity  as 
soon  as  possible :  to  recall  as  soon  as  possible  the  Allied 
troops  still  remaining  in  different  parts  of  Russia,  to 
stop  sending  munitions  and,  finally,  to  refuse  every 
kind  of  aid.  Between  the  two  opposite  principles  the 
actual  policy  developed  in  zigzags. 

The  second — and  probably  the  more  important — 
cause  of  the  anti-Bolshevist  failure  was  the  reactionary 
policy  of  the  military  leaders  and  of  their  environment. 
This  was  also  the  reason  why  the  "hands  off  Russia" 
policy  had  the  upper  hand.  It  would  not  have 
amounted  to  much  if  that  policy  had  been  confined  to 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  125 

mere  pro-Bolshevist  circles.  If  the  Bolshevist  propa- 
ganda was  able  to  determine  or  to  modify  the  policy  of 
the  Allied  Governments,  it  was  because  large  circles 
of  liberal  public  opinion  grew  suspicious.  The  world 
which  deeply  sympathized  with  the  glorious  beginnings 
of  our  Revolution  of  1917  did  not  at  all  wish  to  see  its 
sound  principles  and  its  lasting  acquisitions  thrown 
overboard  all  along  with  its  horrible  excesses. 

There  was  little  reason  for  suspicion  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  anti-Bolshevist  struggle.  There  were  reac- 
tionary elements  among  the  "whites"  but  they  kept 
quiet ;  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Revolution  was  as  yet  too 
strong  in  the  "white"  ranks  to  encourage  that  particular 
group.  All  the  political  elements,  socialistic,  demo- 
cratic, liberal  and  conservative,  stood  together  and  there 
was  no  difference  of  opinion  between  them  as  to  the  ad- 
missibility  of  Allied  help,  which  had  not  yet  been  called 
"intervention."  However,  gradually  the  military  anti- 
Bolshevist  movement  degenerated  into  a  purely  reac- 
tionary movement.  As  a  consequence,  the  socialist 
groups  were  the  first  to  change  their  attitude  towards 
it.  They  declared  themselves  neutral.  For  the  Rus- 
sian non-socialist  liberal  democracy,  to  which  I  belong, 
it  also  became  increasingly  difficult  to  identify  itself 
with  the  reactionary  tendencies  of  the  "white"  move- 
ment. For  a  while  they  abstained  from  open  criticism, 
as  they  did  not  wish  to  interfere  with  the  possibility  of 
a  military  victory  over  the  Bolsheviks.  They  under- 
stood only  too  well  that  it  would  not  be  a  victory  of 
liberalism  in  Russia.  But  at  the  same  time  they  did 
not  believe  in  the  possibility  of  a  lasting  reaction  in 
post-revolutionary  Russia.  They  found  their  consola- 
tion in  the  idea  that,  at  least,  it  would  be  some  kind  of 
State  that  would  be  reestablished  in  Russia,  while  the 


126     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

very  foundations  of  Statehood  had  been  destroyed  by 
the  Bolsheviks. 

Now  there  came  that  third  circumstance  which  made 
clear  why  the  defeat  of  the  anti-Bolshevist  generals 
was  inevitable,  and  it  definitely  changed  the  stand  of 
the  Russian  democratic  liberals.  The  Russian  people 
themselves,  the  great  silent  masses,  proved  to  be  not 
at  all  willing  to  be  liberated  by  the  reactionaries,  in 
whose  ranks  they  recognized  their  former  landlords. 
This  is  where  many  of  us  had  to  change  and  to  im- 
prove our  view  of  the  masses.  We  had  thought  that 
the  attitude  of  the  popular  masses  toward  the  "white" 
movement  would  be  if  not  sympathetic,  at  least  pas- 
sively neutral.  But  it  was  not.  The  uneducated  Rus- 
sian masses,  who  were  thought  to  be  groping  in  the 
darkness,  proved  to  be  the  first  to  understand  the 
situation  as  it  really  was.  For  the  first  time  many  of 
us  then  understood  how  great  was  the  evolution  of 
the  Russian  peasants  towards  political  consciousness, 
which  was  caused  not  by  Bolshevism,  but  by  the 
Revolution. 

Henceforth,  there  was  no  more  room  for  doubts  or 
wavering.  Everybody  understood  that — and  why — the 
military  anti-Bolshevist  movement  had  no  more  chance 
to  win.  Further  bloodshed  now  appeared  not  only 
useless  but  criminal  One  had  to  admit  that  the 
"white"  movement  far  from  being  able  to  weaken  the 
Bolsheviks  was  practically  strengthening  them,  by 
keeping  up  the  spirit  of  the  Red  Army,  by  giving  them 
a  chance  to  live  at  the  expense  of  internal  civil  war,  and 
also  by  giving  the  excuse  of  patriotism  to  former  officers 
of  the  General  Staff  in  the  Bolshevist  sen-ice.  The 
Allied  policy  made  good  material  for  indignation 
against  our  former  Allies.  Their  role  was  now  ex- 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  127 

plained  not  as  that  of  Allies  bringing  help  but  as  that 
of  foreigners  bent  on  intervention.  Help  was  welcome. 
Intervention  was  to  be  repudiated. 

The  entire  tactics  of  Russia's  liberation  had  now 
to  be  changed.  It  was  the  new, tactics  that  served 
as  a  basis  for  rapprochement  between  the  moderate 
socialist  and  non-socialist  democratic  groups  in  1921. 
Their  common  opinion  now  was  that  the  liberation  of 
Russia  had  to  come  about  as  the  result  of  an  internal 
process  of  change  of  mind  in  the  large  masses,  not  as 
the  result  of  a  military  invasion  from  the  outside,  which 
now  had  definitely  become  impossible,  both  psycho- 
logically and  technically.  To  follow  closely  and  to  help 
that  internal  process  has  now  become  the  predominant 
aim  of  the  Russian  democratic  groups.  The  remaining 
detachments  of  the  former  white  armies  were  expected 
to  demobilize.  This  idea,  of  course,  met  with  resistance 
on  the  part  of  the  military  elements,  which  have  defi- 
nitely broken  with  democracy  and  joined  the  reaction- 
ary current  which  works  for  the  restoration  of  mon- 
archy. 

There  is  one  more  point  to  make  before  we  go  into 
details.  Where  is  the  anti-Bolshevist  Russia?  Is  it 
on  this  or  on  that  side  of  the  Russian  frontier? 

The  anti-Bolshevist  Russia  is  all  Russia  except  the 
Communist  Party,  or  rather  a  part  of  the  Communist 
Party.  All  tendencies  of  the  anti-Bolshevist  Russia 
are  to  be  found  on  both  sides  of  the  frontiers.  The  re- 
actionary element,  of  course,  is  more  largely  represented 
among  the  emigres.  It  is  rare  but  not  entirely  lacking 
in  Russia.  The  liberal  and  socialist  political  par- 
ties are  much  more  differentiated  outside  of  Russia,  as 
a  consequence  of  the  possibility  of  free  discussion  of 
future  possibilities  and  open  expression  of  opinion.  In 


128     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Russia  the  same  tendencies,  with  the  same  variations, 
also  exist,  but  the  general  tone  of  the  underground  po- 
litical life  is  an  intensely  negative  attitude  towards  the 
common  enemy  at  present. 

The  history  of  the  anti-Bolshevist  Russia  begins 
from  the  very  moment  of  the  Bolshevist  victory.  In 
November,  1917,  all  parties  were  united  against  the 
usurpers.  The  attitude  of  the  large  class  of  function- 
aries was  that  of  complete  abstention  from  coopera- 
tion with  the  new  power:  the  Bolsheviks  called  it 
"sabotage."  As  long  as  there  was  any  hope  of  the  im- 
mediate overthrow  of  the  Bolsheviks  and  as  long  as 
the  means  of  subsistence  were  not  entirely  exhausted, 
this  attitude  of  opposition  did  not  change.  Later  on, 
some  few  fled  away  or  continued  their  opposition  in 
secret.  The  majority  were  obliged  to  enter  the  Bol- 
shevist service,  but  only  a  few  entered  the  Communist 
Party.  Most  of  the  anti-Bolshevist  functionaries  that 
entered  the  Bolshevist  service  called  themselves  "sym- 
pathizers" (of  Bolshevism)  or  "non-party."  On  the 
contrary,  the  resistance  of  the  workingmen  to  the  Bol- 
shevist regime  increased  with  time  and  in  the  spring 
of  1918  attempts  were  already  made  for  mass  uprisings. 
The  "Conference  of  Factory  Workers,"  representing 
more  than  100,000  workingmen  of  Petrograd,  met  in 
April,  1918,  and  demanded  the  resignation  of  the  Sov- 
iets and  the  transmission  of  power  to  the  Constituent 
Assembly.  The  same  demand  was  put  forth  by  the 
railroad  men,  who  threatened  the  Government  with  a 
strike.  The  sailors  in  Petrograd,  who  had  helped  the 
Bolsheviks  to  their  November  victory,  repeatedly  de- 
manded the  resignation  of  the  Soviet  Commissaries. 
The  same  regiments  of  the  Petrograd  Guards  that 
brought  about  the  November  overthrow  had  to  be  dis- 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  129 

armed  a  few  weeks  later,  as  well  as  many  divisions  of 
the  Red  Army,  sailors  serving  on  mine-sweepers,  etc. 
It  was  then  that  the  Bolsheviks  began  to  resort  to 
hired  detachments  of  aliens,  Chinese,  Letts  and  Hun- 
garians. 

Out  of  all  the  Russian  political  parties  only  the  left 
wing  of  the  Social-Democrats  (Mr.  Martov's  "interna- 
tionalist" group)  consented  to  cooperate  with  the  Bol- 
shevist Government.  All  the  other  parties,  the  so- 
called  "minority"  of  the  Social-Democrats  ("Menshe- 
viki"  as  opposed  to  the  "majority,"  the  "Bolsheviki"), 
the  Social-Democratic  group  of  the  late  Plekhanov 
("Unity"),  nearly  all  the  Social-Revolutionaries,  the 
Socialists-Populists  and  the  Constitutional-Democrats 
(the  "Cadets")  were  opposed  to  the  Bolsheviks.  All 
the  parties  mentioned  together  represent  Russian  de- 
mocracy. The  other,  the  conservative  and  reactionary 
(the  "right")  wing  in  Russian  politics  is  not  organized 
in  political  parties:  such  conservative  and  reactionary 
parties  as  had  existed  at  the  time  of  the  Dumas  ( 1907- 
1917)  had  been  artificially  built  with  the  help  of  the 
Tsarist  Government  and  broke  down  completely  under 
the  Revolution  of  1917  (the  "Octobrists,"  the  "Nation- 
alists," the  "Union  of  the  Russian  People,"  etc.)  Such 
elements  of  them  as  remained  were  unable  to  join  the 
democratic  groups,  even  for  the  purpose  of  fighting  the 
Bolsheviks.  That  is  why  there  were  two  separate  po- 
litical coalitions  in  the  first  half  of  1918:  the  "Right 
Center"  (conservative  and  reactionary)  and  the  "Left 
Center"  (the  left  wing  of  the  cadets  and  the  socialists). 

The  further  evolution  of  these  groups  took  place  in 
the  middle  of  1918  (May)  under  the  direct  influence 
of  the  Allied  scheme  to  form  a  new  "Eastern  Front" 
(see  Chapters  V  and  XI).  After  the  Brest- Litovsk 


130     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Treaty  some  conservative  and  reactionary  groups  en- 
tered into  relations  with  the  German  representatives 
in  Petrograd  and  in  Moscow.  "Germanophilism"  was 
traditional  in  these  political  circles,  and  they  cherished 
the  hope  of  making  use  of  the  Germans  to  restore  mon- 
archy in  Russia.  The  secret  soon  leaked  out  and  the 
disclosure  brought  about  a  scission  among  the  members 
of  the  "Right  Center."  The  more  liberal  elements, 
which  were  strongly  pro- Ally,  detached  themselves  from 
the  "Right  Center"  (which  soon  ceased  to  exist)  and 
built  a  new  and  really  central  group  which  called  itself 
the  "National  Center,"  and  entered  into  negotiations 
with  the  Allied  diplomatists  (especially  Mr.  Noulens). 
At  the  same  time  individual  members  of  democratic 
and  socialist  parties  formed  a  bloc  called  the  "Union 
for  Russia's  Regeneration,"  which  also  entered  into 
official  negotiations  with  the  Allies  for  restoring  an 
Allied  front  in  Russia.  They  even  proposed  to  the 
Allies  the  plan  for  a  military  campaign  on  Russian  ter- 
ritory, with  the  participation  of  the  Allied  armies, 
against  the  Bolsheviks.  In  June  both  groups  received 
from  Mr.  Noulens  a  "verbal  note"  in  which,  among 
other  things,  was  communicated  the  Allied  decision 
to  send  military  forces  sufficiently  numerous  hi  order 
that  the  struggle  might  be  successfully  carried  on  from 
the  very  beginning  and  a  regular  anti-Bolshevist  army 
evolve  from  the  small  partisan  detachments.  I  must 
add  that  all  three  political  groups  (reactionary,  central 
and  democratic)  had  connections  with  respective  groups 
of  officers  ready  to  start  on  an  open  struggle.  As  I  have 
already  mentioned,  that  struggle  was  universally  con- 
sidered to  be  a  continuation — a  new  chapter — of  the 
World  War,  and  nobody  thought  that  it  might  be 
construed  as  "intervention."  The  Bolshevist-German 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  131 

alliance  was  an  accomplished  fact;  German  and  Aus- 
trian prisoners  of  war  were  being  organized  in  detach- 
ments and  receiving  arms  and  munitions  from  the 
Allied  stores.  Under  such  conditions,  Allied  help  to 
the  anti-Bolshevist  Russian  forces  appeared  quite 
natural. 

Unfortunately,  the  germs  of  future  misunderstand- 
ings were  already  in  existence  both  between  different 
Russian  political  organizations  and  between  the  Rus- 
sians and  the  Allies.  The  "Union  for  Russia's  Regen- 
eration" insisted  on  a  collective  form  of  a  future  central 
power:  a  "Directory  of  five  or,  at  least,  three  members." 
The  conservative  wing  wished  to  have  at  the  head  of 
the  anti-Bolshevist  movement  a  single  person,  a  mili- 
tary dictator  with  unlimited  powers.  There  was  also 
no  unity  of  opinion  concerning  the  part  to  be  played 
by  the  .Constituent  Assembly.  The  "Union"  agreed 
that  this  Assembly,  which  had  been  elected  after  the 
November  overthrow,  under  the  influence  of  the  Bol- 
sheviks, and  which  included  up  to  40  per  cent,  of  the 
Bolsheviks,  could  not  be  considered,  after  its  dissolu- 
tion by  the  Bolsheviks  in  January,  1918,  as  a  legal 
exponent  of  the  sovereign  power  of  the  people.  But  at 
the  same  time  the  "Union"  was  against  its  complete 
suppression.  The  moderate  wing  found,  to  the  con- 
trary, that  the  Constituent  Assembly  could  no  longer 
function  as  an  institution,  for  any  purpose  whatever. 
The  note  of  Mr.  Noulens  tried  to  conciliate  both  views 
and  it  proposed  a  compromise.  The  Constituent  As- 
sembly should  meet  only  for  two  or  three  days,  in  order 
to  sanction  the  newly-formed  Government,  to  work  out 
an  electoral  law  for  elections  to  a  new  Constituent 
Assembly,  and  then  dissolve.  The  same  note  admitted 
that  the  new  Government  ought  to  be  formed  of  three 


132     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

members  (i.  e.,  it  accepted  the  form  of  a  "directory"). 
Both  political  organizations,  which  formally  declared 
themselves  pro-Ally,  the  "National  Center"  and  "the 
Union  for  Russia's  Regeneration,"  decided  at  the  end 
of  May  to  accept  that  scheme,  and  they  even  selected 
the  three  members,  and  substitutes  for  them,  repre- 
senting the  military  command  and  two  political  coali- 
tions. General  Alexeiev  and  his  candidate.  General 
Boldyrev,  especially  acceptable  to  the  socialists,  were 
chosen  to  represent  the  former  element.  Mr.  Avxentiev 
was  to  represent  the  "Union,"  and  I,  or,  in  my  place, 
Mr.  N.  I.  Astrov  or,  as  his  substitute,  Mr.  V.  Vino- 
gradov,  the  Cadet  member  of  the  Duma,  had  to  repre- 
sent the  "National  Center."  I  purposely  mention  all 
these  details,  in  order  that  the  readers  may  better  un- 
derstand further  developments  and  complications. 

Another  source  of  misunderstanding,  no  less  seri- 
ous than  the  difference  of  opinion  between  the  Rus- 
sian political  coalitions,  was  the  difference  of  views 
and  aims  of  the  Allies  from  those  of  the  Russians. 
The  Allied  intervention,  as  the  American  Gov- 
ernment stated  it  (see  Chapter  X),  was  intended 
rather  to  "make  use  of  Russia,"  than  "to  serve  her." 
The  Allied  promises  to  send  sufficiently  numer- 
ous armies  in  order  to  at  once  assure  the  anti-Bolshevist 
success  could  not  possibly  be  kept.  But  the  Allied 
representatives  in  Russia  made  the  Russian  political 
and  military  organizations  believe  it.  Their  immedi- 
ate aim  was  achieved.  Serious  disturbances  and  upris- 
ings took  place  in  June,  July  and  August,  in  provincial 
towns  surrounding  Moscow :  Ribbinsk,  Vladimir,  Yaros- 
lavl and  Murom.  It  was  promised  that  the  detach- 
ments of  the  Allied  troops,  having  landed  in  the  North, 
in  Murmansk  and  Archangel,  would  come  on  time  to 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  133 

their  relief  via  Vologda,  where  the  Allied  diplomatic 
representatives  had  settled  after  the  conclusion  of  the 
Brest-Litovsk  peace  (March).  As  was  to  be  expected, 
the  promised  help  did  not  come.1  The  revolts  in  Rib- 
binsk  and  Vladimir  were  stifled  at  once.  Those  in 
Murom  and  Yaroslavl  succeeded,  but  issued  in  useless 
bloodshed.  Yaroslavl  held  out  for  eleven  full  days,  but 
finally  fell,  battered  by  the  heavy  artillery  of  the  Bol- 
sheviks. Whole  quarters  of  that  old  Russian  city  were 
in  ruins,  heaps  of  dead  bodies  lay  in  the  streets,  and  the 
population  blamed  the  Allies  for  having  broken  their 
pledge. 

However,  the  Allies  decided,  instead  of  their  own 
armies,  to  make  use  of  the  Czecho-Slovak  detachments, 
which  had  been  formed  of  war  prisoners  belonging  to 
that  friendly  Slav  nation  and  had  fought  in  the  ranks 
of  the  Russian  Army  against  their  Austrian  oppressors. 
They  were  ordered  in  February,  1918,  to  leave  Russia 
and  to  go  to  the  French  front.  At  the  moment  when 
an  "Eastern  Front"  was  planned,  this  seemed  very 
strange:  the  Czecho-Slovaks  (and  the  Serbs)  were  prac- 
tically the  only  Allied  troops  who  were  on  the  spot  and 
could  have  been  a  real  factor  in  the  struggle.  "Why 
send  these  troops  out  of  Russia,"  Ambassador  Francis 
was  wondering  on  March  30,  1918,  "if  an  army  is 
forming  to  resist  the  Germans?"  "It  would  seem  a 
foolish  waste  of  time,  money  and  tonnage  to  send 
troops  around  the  world  to  get  to  the  French  front," 
Mr.  Raymond  Robbins  had  surmised  a  day  before. 
The  Czecho-Slovaks  in  the  meantime  were  slowly  mov- 

irThe  original  operations  of  French  and  British  troops  in  Mur- 
mansk took  place  in  April,  on  the  supposition  of  cooperation  with 
the  Bolsheviks  against  the  Germans.  But  by  the  middle  of  July  the 
Allied  forces  occupied  the  whole  of  the  Murman  coast  and  moved 
southwards,  via  Kem,  Soroki,  Sumskiposad  on  the  road  to  Onega. 


134     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

ing  to  the  East  on  their  way  to  Vladivostok.  They  had 
reached  the  Volga  and  Cheliabinsk.  At  Cheliabinsk, 
on  May  26,  the  Czecho-Slovak  "rebellion"  began.  They 
occupied  the'railroad  station  and  the  city,  took'up  arms, 
removed  and  arrested  the  Bolshevist  authorities.  They 
were  ordered  to  disarm  but  disobeyed  the  order  and 
fired  on  the  Bolshevist  forces.  On  June  4,  the  four 
Allied  powers  declared  that  they  would  consider  the 
disarming  of  the  Czecho-Slovaks  as  a  hostile  act.  At 
the  same  time  a  decisive  encounter  took  place  between 
the  Czecho-Slovaks  and  the  Reds  in  Penza  and  at  the 
Rtischevo  station. 

The  war  was  thus  formally  begun,  and  immediately 
the  Russian  working  men  and  the  officers'  organizations, 
controlled  by  the  Social-Revolutionary  Party,  joined 
hands  with  the  Czecho-Slovaks  on  their  approach  to 
Samara  (June  8).  A  "Committee  of  Members  of  the 
All-Russian  Constituent  Assembly"  was  formed  on  the 
same  day  and  a  decision  was  reached  to  organize  a  new 
"People's  Army"  on  the  basis  of  voluntary  enlistment. 
The  Cossacks  of  Orenburg  and  the  Urals  joined  the 
Czecho-Slovaks  and  the  People's  Army.  Altogether 
they  did  not  number  many  men  and  they  were  poorly 
armed.  But  they  showed  great  enthusiasm  and  ca- 
pacity for  self-sacrifice.  The  Commandant  Alphonse 
Gurnet,  the  French  military  adviser,  was  in  Samara 
and  it  was  his  idea  that  a  "Volga  front"  should  be  built, 
extending  from  Kazan  to  Samara,  in  the  hope  that  they 
would  soon  be  relieved  by  the  Allies  coming  from  the 
(non-existent)  "Northern  Front,"  near  Vologda,  The 
task  was  almost  impossible  to  accomplish.  But  after 
a  very  strenuous  effort  which  cost  heavy  losses  in  men, 
Simbirsk  was  taken  (July  22)  and  after  Simbirsk, 
Kazan  (August  7),  under  new  promises  of  Captain 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  135 

Borde,  that  the  Allied  army  would  join  the  anti-Bol- 
shevist force  by  way  of  Viatka.  For  thirty-four  days 
the  Czechs  and  the  People's  Army  held  Kazan,  while 
the  working  men  of  the  Ishevsk  Mines  captured  Sara- 
pul  and  Elabuga,  and  proceeded  towards  Perm.  Final 
success  seemed  to  be  assured,  if  only  the  Allies  could 
come  in  time.  But  they  could  not  and,  what  is  still 
worse,  did  not  intend  to.  On  September  10,  the  small 
number  of  exhausted  defenders  gave  up  Kazan.  In 
October  the  anti-Bolshevik  troops  had  to  leave  Samara, 
and  the  "Volga  front"  was  definitely  broken  up. 

They  now  accused  the  Allies  of  having  tied  them  up 
to  a  scheme  of  campaign  based  on  consciously  unrealiz- 
able promises.  "If  we  had  only  known,"  Col.  V.  I. 
Lebedev  says,1  "that  the  50,000  Japanese  and  American 
soldiers  who  disembarked  at  Vladivostok  did  not  intend 
to  come  to  our  help  in  the  immediate  future  and  that 
the  holding  of  our  front  would  be  left  to  us  and  the 
Czechs,  it  is  quite  possible  that  instead  of  trying  to 
open  a  way  to  Vladivostok  and  to  build  a  front  4,700 
miles  long  and  500  miles  wide,  we  would  have  concen- 
trated our  forces  on  the  Volga  front  and  moved  on  to 
Moscow  right  after  the  capture  of  Kazan,  in  July 
or  August.  .  .  .  We  would  have  had  enough  troops 
for  the  advance  on  Moscow  if  we  had  not  had  to  defend 
the  Volga  front  while  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  Allies." 
I  leave  it  to  the  military  authorities  to  decide  whether 
the  author  is  right  or  not.  At  any  rate,  his  words 
express  the  state  of  mind  of  the  anti-Bolsheviks  after 
their  first  disappointment  in  the  Allied  help.  A  char- 

x"The  Russian  Democracy  in  its  Struggle  Against  the  Bolshevist 
Tyranny"  (Published  by  the  Russian  Information  Bureau,  Wool- 
worth  Building,  New  York).  Col.  V.  I.  Lebedev  was  one  of  the 
chief  military  commanders  in  that  campaign  of  June-September, 
1918. 


136     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

acteristic  feature  of  that  first  stage  of  the  anti-Bolshe- 
vist armed  struggle  is  that  it  is  quite  impossible  to 
apply  to  it  the  terms  "intervention"  or  "reaction."  The 
movement  was  genuinely  national  and  thoroughly 
democratic.  This  is  also  the  only  movement  of  that 
kind  that  developed  from  within  Russia — of  course, 
with  the  aid  of  foreign  (Czecho-Slovak)  disciplined 
troops — which  secured  a  temporary  success.  This  stage 
is  unjustly  forgotten,  and  that  is  why  I  especially 
wished  to  recall  it  in  this  short  outline. 

In  the  following  stages  the  struggle  passes  from  cen- 
tral Russia  to  the  outskirts:  to  southern  and  southeast- 
ern Russia,  on  the  one  side,  and  to  Siberia  on  the  other. 
This  geographical  division  of  areas  proved  as  fatal  to 
the  success  of  the  anti-Bolshevist  struggle,  as  the  differ- 
ences of  political  opinion  and  the  inefficiency  of  the 
Allied  help. 

The  advantages  and  the  drawbacks  of  the  two  differ- 
ent theaters  of  military  offensive  against  Moscow  seem 
to  be  quite  clear  at  the  first  glance  on  the  ma-p.  Here 
were  the  rich  provinces  of  Southern  Russia,  the  Russian 
granary,  densely  settled,  with  easy  access  to  the  Rus- 
sian center,  through  a  railway  net  starting  from  the 
best  harbors  of  the  Black  Sea  and  converging  at  Mos- 
cow. It  is  true  that  access  to  the  Black  Sea  through 
the  Dardanelles  was  closed  to  the  Allies  until  the  armi- 
stice (Nov.  11,  1918).  But  actual  intervention  de- 
veloped after  that  date.  On  the  other  hand,  there  were 
the  three  harbors  most  remote  from  Moscow,  Mur- 
mansk and  Archangel  in  the  North  of  Russia,  Vladi- 
vostok in  the  Far  East.  They  could  have  been  easily 
controlled  by  the  Allied  fleets,  but  they  were  most 
inappropriate  starting  points  for  operations  on  land. 
They  were  connected  with  the  interior  by  single  rail- 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  137 

way  tracks  passing  through  deserts  very  scantily  peo- 
pled and  possessing  no  local  resources.  Sufficient  sup- 
plies could  not  be  secured  at  such  enormous  distances 
from  the  base,  with  the  constant  danger  of  the  railway 
lines  being  cut  at  the  rear  by  the  enemy's  partisans. 
Again,  it  was  quite  natural  that  these  ports  should 
have  been  occupied  by  the  Allies  during  the  war  time, 
but  it  was  only  by  force  of  inertia  that  they  still  con- 
tinued to  use  them  for  the  new  schemes  of  intervention 
after  the  armistice.  As  a  result  the  attention  of  the 
Allies  was  persistently  concentrated  on  Siberia  and 
Archangel,  while  the  greatest  hope  of  military  success 
lay  with  the  operations  in  Southern  Russia,  Whatever 
was  the  reason  of  that  aberration, — lack  of  knowledge 
and  understanding,  lack  of  sympathy  with  the  under- 
taking, short-sighted  selfishness,  a  blind  game  of  chance, 
— the  result  was  bound  to  be  a  failure. 

Let  us  now  come  back  to  the  anti-Bolshevist  activ- 
ities in  Southern  Russia.  They  developed  directly  after 
the  Bolshevist  victory  in  Petrograd  and  in  Moscow, 
in  November,  1917,  and  they  were  quite  independent 
from  the  anti-Bolshevist  movement  in  the  interior  of 
Russia.  In  the  very  first  weeks  after -the  overthrow, 
in  November  and  December,  1917,  the  defeated  politi- 
cal and  military  groups  that  wished  to  pursue  an  open 
struggle  against  the  Bolsheviks  were  gathering  in  the 
land  of  the  Don  Cossacks,  in  their  capital,  Novocher- 
kassk, and  in  the  large  commercial  city  of  Rostov  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Don  River.  General  Alexeiev,  the 
former  Commander-in-Chief,  had  come,  and  he  worked 
out  the  first  plans  for  building  a  Volunteer  Army.  I 
personally  took  part  in  his  first  negotiations  for  help 
with  the  British,  French  and  American  representatives. 
I  must  add  that  at  that  time  no  help  was  given,  except 


138     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

from  France  through  Rumania.  A  little  later  on,  Gen- 
eral Kornilov  liberated  himself  from  his  seclusion  at 
Bykhov,  in  which  he  had  been  kept  by  the  Provisional 
Government  after  his  unsuccessful  uprising  against 
Kerensky  (see  Chapter  II).  He  came  to  Novocher- 
kassk accompanied  by  his  fellow  generals,  imprisoned 
with  him,  Denikin,  Markov  and  others.  At  once  two 
centers  of  influence  were  formed,  as  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  difference  between  Alexeiev  and  Kornilov. 
General  Alexeiev,  a  wise  old  man,  very  cautious  in  his 
plans,  with  broad  views  and  great  experience,  was 
capable  of  appreciating  the  whole  political  situation 
and  not  only  the  military  side  of  it.  He  understood 
perfectly  that  as  things  stood,  a  military  movement 
against  the  Bolsheviks  had  to  be  based  on  a  political 
platform  capable  of  uniting  all  political  groups,  repub- 
lican and  monarchist,  radical  and  conservative.  He 
also  saw  the  importance  of  basing  the  political  pro- 
gram on  the  recognition  of  the  leading  principles  of 
the  March  Revolution  of  1917.  The  task  was  easier 
then  than  it  has  become  since,  as  the  recollections  were 
very  fresh  in  everybody's  mind  as  to  the  part  Gen. 
Alexeiev  and  other  military  leaders  had  played  in  the 
initial  success  of  that  Revolution.  However  incensed 
the  officers  might  have  been  against  Kerensky's  policy 
towards  the  Army,  they  still  were  able  to  discriminate 
between  a  man's  personal  faults  and  the  great  ideas 
he  represented.  To  be  sure  there  were  people  at  Novo- 
cherkassk who  already  were  filled  up  with  white  rage 
and  hatred  against  the  Revolution  as  such.  But  these 
people  for  a  time  kept  silent.  Their  hero  was  Kornilov. 
But  Kornilov  still  called  himself  a  republican  and  was 
not  fit  to  become  the  center  of  an  openly  reactionary 
movement.  First  and  foremost,  he  was  a  soldier,  in- 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  139 

trepid,  daring  in  enterprise,  rash  in  decisions,  despising 
politicians  and  politics,  but  naive  enough  to  succumb 
to  the  chance  influence  of  some  haphazard  adviser 
clever  enough  to  flatter  the  General's  ambition  and  to 
suggest  a  scheme  which  would  be  taken  up  as  his  own 
and  executed  with  iron  will.  A  "lion's  heart  but  a 
sheep's  head,"  as  Kornilov  was  disparagingly  charac- 
terized by  one  of  his  competitor-generals,  he  was  just 
a  contrast  to  Alexeiev,  and  they  intensely  disliked  each 
other.  General  Kornilov,  who  had  enjoyed  the  confi- 
dence of  his  mates  at  the  Bykhov  seclusion,  gradually 
took  the  precedence,  while  General  Alexeiev  was  re- 
moved to  the  second  place.  This  was  the  origin  of 
the  prevailing  influence  of  the  military  elements  over 
the  civil  and  political  ones,  in  the  policy  and  tactics 
of  the  Volunteer  Army.  From  the  very  beginning  the 
Generals  did  not  understand  that  it  was  guerrilla  war- 
fare they  had  to  carry  on,  and  that  the  first  condition 
for  its  success  was  to  attend  first  and  foremost  to  the 
interests  of  the  population  which  was  to  be  liberated. 
The  great  majority  of  them  were  satisfied  to  find  them- 
selves again,  after  the  severe  experiences  of  the  revolu- 
tionary period,  in  their  own  sphere  of  an  army  organ- 
ization built  on  the  customary  pattern,  with  its  old 
discipline  restored.  They  at  once  started  building  huge 
staffs  each  with  a  numerous  personnel,  the  traditional 
red  tape,  etc.  They  did  not  see  that  they  had  almost 
no  regular  soldiers  under  their  command,  but  only  a 
few  hundred  young  officers  and  "cadets"  who  like  them- 
selves had  fled  away  from  the  Bolsheviks  and,  in  their 
youthful  enthusiasm,  were  ready  to  play  the  part  of 
soldiers  and,  accordingly,  to  undergo  soldiers'  priva- 
tions. 
The  situation  was  the  more  complicated  by  the  fact 


140     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

that  the  few  "Volunteers"  with  the  many  Generals  at 
their  head  were  practically  guests  in  a  territory  which 
did  not  at  all  desire  to  take  their  orders.  It  was  the 
land  of  the  Don  Cossacks.  It  would  be  a  great  mistake 
to  associate  that  name  with  the  old  reputation  of  the 
Cossacks  as  being  the  most  reactionary  defenders  of 
the  Tsars.  The  Cossack  region  belongs  to  the  most 
democratic  parts  of  Russia.  The  rank  and  file  Cos- 
sacks still  constitute  the  most  influential  social  layer 
here  and  possess  their  landed  property  in  common. 
They  have  preserved  their  military  organization  and 
since  the  Revolution  they  have  restored  the  old  custom 
of  periodically  electing  their  "Ataman,"  who  is  the  head 
of  the  executive  power  but  is  responsible  before  the 
Cossack  "Krug,"  a  largely  democratic  popular  assembly 
which  meets  at  irregular  intervals.  The  Don  Cossacks 
are  Great  Russians  and,  with  all  their  love  for  local 
autonomy,  they  are  stalwart  partisans  of  Russian  unity. 
A  part  of  the  Kuban  Cossacks  are  Little  Russians  (the 
Ukrainians)  and  they  are  more  inclined  to  separatism. 
The  Cossack  strivings  for  autonomy  and  the  lack  of  a 
local  aristocracy  of  big  landowners  (the  few  who  were 
there  were  forced  to  leave  their  estates  under  the  Rev- 
olution) had  for  quite  a  time  brought  the  Cossacks  in 
contact  with  the  Russian  liberals  and  made  them  abhor 
the  former  Tsarist  centralization.  They  now  wavered 
between  social  radicalism  and  political  moderation. 
Their  younger  generation,  just  coming  from  the  disor- 
ganized Russian  front,  partly  grew  pro-Bolshevist,  but 
they  found  themselves  at  variance  with  their  fathers, 
mothers  and  wives,  who  had  remained  in  their  "stanit- 
sas"  (the  name  of  the  .Cossack  large  village).  The  is- 
sue was  uncertain  and  everything  depended  on  the  re- 
sult of  that  internal  moral  struggle.  The  appearance 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  141 

of  the  Volunteer  Army  under  these  conditions  was 
looked  upon  askance.  Radical  groups  of  the  population 
considered  them  as  intruders  and  potential  reaction- 
aries. Moderate  groups  did  not  dare  to  take  up  their 
defense  openly.  The  first  Ataman  elected,  the  chival- 
rous General  Kaledin,  was  a  warm  partisan  of  the 
Kornilov  movement,  but  he  was  also  a  thoroughly 
democratic  representative  of  his  region.  He  most  will- 
ingly gave  hospitality  to  the  "White  Generals"  and 
their  Volunteers,  and  he  tried  to  help  them  enlist  as 
many  Cossacks  as  he  could.  But  here  he  met  with  the 
radical  evolution  of  mind  in  the  midst  of  the  Cossacks 
and  he  soon  lost  confidence  in  his  own  authority.  The 
moral  tragedy  of  that  noble  character  was  that  of  the 
whole  of  Russia.  On  the  one  side  there  was  the  neces- 
sity of  building  a  strong  military  power  to  save  Russia; 
on  the  other — the  fact  of  democratic  tendencies  of  the 
population,  evolving  into  Bolshevism  and  decidedly 
opposed  to  the  mission  .of  the  Volunteer  Army. 

Under  such  conditions,  the  position  of  some  300 
young  officers  gathered  at  Novocherkassk  and  Rostov, 
in  the  midst  of  a  population  which  was  partly  indiffer- 
ent and  partly  openly  hostile,  soon  became  untenable. 
Early  in  December,  1917,  they  had  a  chance  to  prove 
their  usefulness  to  the  population,  by  stifling  a  Bol- 
shevist uprising  in  Rostov.  By  January,  1918,  they 
numbered  about  3,000.  But  their  very  success  drew 
the  attention  of  tne  Bolsheviks  to  them,  and  a  Red 
Army  numbering  about  100,000  gradually  surrounded 
Rostov.  The  population  positively  did  not  wish  to 
enlist  and  to  help.  It  was  no  use  to  fight  on.  On 
February  23,  1918,  the  "Volunteer  Army"  began  its 
famous  retreat  to  the  Steppes.  A  few  days  before,  Ata- 
man Kaledin  had  committed  suicide  in  his  palace  at 


142     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Novocherkassk.  The  Bolsheviks  were  approaching. 
They  took  possession  of  the  Don  with  their  usual  se- 
verities. 

Two  months  later,  at  the  end  of  April,  1918,  the 
"Volunteers"  came  back  covered  with  laurels  but — 
without  Kornilov.  Their  first  campaign,  the  so-called 
"Icy  Campaign,"  has  remained  in  the  recollection  of  its 
participants  as  a  glorious  and  heroic  effort.  And,  in- 
deed, it  was  the  period  of  high-spirited  enthusiasm  for 
the  cause  in  that  small  group  of  glowing  patriots  who, 
without  any  prospects  for  the  future,  misunderstood 
and  repudiated  by  the  surrounding  majority,  still  risked 
their  lives  for  their  country  and,  although  accustomed 
to  civilized  comfort,  did  not  resent  any  strain,  privation 
and  suffering.  However,  they  were  few,  these  heroes 
who  came  back  alive  from  the  "Icy  Campaign."  They 
were  about  one  thousand.  A  full  third  of  the  army* 
had  perished  during  those  two  months  of  incessant 
fighting.  General  Kornilov  was  killed  by  a  bomb  on 
March  31,  during  the  attempt  to  besiege  and  to  take 
Ekaterinodar,  the  Kuban  capital.  The  whole  under- 
taking was  hopeless  and  reckless  in  its  substance.  The 
first  thing  that  the  young  General  Denikin  did,  when 
he  took  up  the  command,  was  to  have  these  worn-out 
young  officers,  who  served  as  soldiers,  seated  on  the 
cars  requisitioned  from  the  population  and  brought 
back  to  the  Don.  The  greatest  positive  result  of  the 
retreat  from  Rostov  was  to  preserve  the  nucleus  of  an 
anti-Bolshevist  army  up  to  the  moment  when  the  coun- 
try could  use  it.1 

And,  indeed,  circumstances  and  the  psychology  of 

1The  description  of  the  "Icy  Campaign"  is  given  in  a  leaflet  by 
Prince  P.  M.  Volkonsky:  "The  Volunteer  Army  of  Alexeiev  and 
Denikin";  No.  7,  Russian  Liberation  Committee,  London,  1919. 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  143 

the  population  had  completely  changed  by  April.  In 
the  first  place,  the  whole  Black  Sea  coast  and  the  whole 
of  the  Ukraine  was  now  taken  by  the  Germans,  who 
had  driven  the  Bolsheviks  far  to  the  north.  In  the 
second  place,  the  Cossacks  of  the  Don  and  of  the  Ku- 
ban now  knew  what  Bolshevism  was.  A  universal 
uprising  took  place  in  April  in  the  Cossack  "stanitsas" 
and  the  Bolshevist  elements  were  exterminated  with 
the  greatest  embitterment.  Returning  Volunteer  Army 
men  were  now  greeted  as  liberators.  The  Cossacks 
were  ready  to  join  the  ranks,  and  in  June,  1918,  the 
Volunteer  Army  was  four  times  stronger  than  it  had 
been  in  March.  It  numbered  up  to  12,000.  By  the 
middle  of  July,  thanks  to  its  junction  with  the  Kuban 
Cossacks  and  a  regular  mobilization  in  the  "stanitsas," 
the  Army  had  become  a  force  of  30,000  men.  By  Oc- 
tober, 1918,  it  had  gradually  increased  to  about  100,000 
men,  extended  over  a  front  of  about  200  miles.  This 
was  practically  a  Cossack  army  as  the  Cossacks  con- 
stituted up  to  80  per  cent,  of  it.  Ekaterinodar  was 
finally  taken  from  the  Bolsheviks  on  August  2.  It  now 
became  the  capital  of  the  Volunteer  Army.  The  pos- 
session of  the  port  of  Ekaterinodar,  Novorossiisk, 
opened  the  road  to  the  sea,  and  the  Volunteer  Army  was 
able  to  get  into  touch  with  the  Allies.  Unfortunately, 
the  health  of  General  Alexeiev  had  been  definitely 
shaken  by  the  "Icy  Campaign"  and  on  September  25, 
he  died.  The  Supreme  Command  of  the  army  passed 
entirely  to  General  Denikin.  In  questions  touching 
politics  and  civil  administration  he  consulted  the  "Spe- 
cial Council  attached  to  the  Commander-in-Chief," 
which,  however,  had  no  power  to  decide  and  to  legis- 
late by  itself.  The  principle  of  military  dictatorship 
was  fully  preserved  and  all  attempts  at  a  "constitu- 


144     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

tional"  division  of  powers  were  relentlessly  checked. 
Relations  with  the  Kuban  hosts  soon  became  very  much 
strained,  as  it  was  exceedingly  difficult  to  draw  the 
line  between  the  "Volunteer"  organization  which 
claimed  to  be  a  nucleus  of  an  "All-Russian"  power  but 
had  only  a  few  strips  of  territories  (Stavropol  and 
Chernomorsk)  under  its  direct  control,  and  the  Kuban 
or  the  Don  local  administrations  which  wished  to  pre- 
serve as  much  as  possible  of  their  de  facto  independence. 
These  were  the  germs  of  the  coming  difficulties,  and 
in  both  questions  of  the  "All-Russian"  and  the  autono- 
mous local  administration  the  leaders  of  the  Volun- 
teer Army  were  already  drifting  from  the  only  possible 
and  really  unbiased  attitude  that  might  have  kept 
them  in  harmony  with  the  political  ideas  and  social 
forces  promoted  by  the  March  Revolution  of  1917. 

The  military  side  of  their  success  in  the  Northern 
Caucasus  was  closely  connected  with  the  general  situa- 
tion in  Southern  Russia  in  1918,  a  fact  which  they  al- 
most completely  overlooked.  But  this  time  they  had 
their  excuse  in  their  "pro-Ally"  orientation.  The  Cau- 
casus was  separated  from  the  Bolsheviks  with  two  large 
regions  which  were  now  free :  the  Don  Cossacks'  region 
and  the  Ukraine.  But  both  had  been  liberated  with  the 
aid  of  the  Germans.  German  military  authorities  sat 
in  Kiev  and  in  Rostov.  Austro-German  garrisons, 
whose  numbers  varied  from  600,000  to  150,000  were 
keeping  all  Southern  Russia  and  the  Crimea  in  order. 
At  the  same  time,  a  national  Ukrainian  Government 
had  been  built  with  the  German  help  in  Kiev,  under 
the  "Hetman"  Skoropadsky.  The  Austrian  idea  of 
detaching  the  Ukraine  from  Russia  had  been  taken  up 
by  Germany.  Skoropadsky,  a  Russian  General  and 
formerly  a  good  Russian  patriot,  had  been  induced  to 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  145 

play  the  extremely  complicated  game  of  Ukrainian  in- 
dependence, while  every  alley  was  left  open  as  to  the 
future  of  the  newly  built  State.  Russia,  Bolshevist  or 
National,  Germany,  Austria,  several  Ukrainian  parties, 
— they  all  had  their  own  policies  which  were  thoroughly 
inconsistent  with  that  hope  of  becoming  the  head  of 
a  new  dynasty  with  which  Skoropadsky's  ambition  was 
nurtured.  In  the  Ukraine  the  Germans  were  trying  to 
lay  their  hands  on  the  economic  resources  of  the  coun- 
try. In  the  neighboring  Don  region  they  were  satis- 
fied with  a  very  loose  control  over  Ataman  Krasnov's 
activities.  On  certain  conditions  they  supplied  him 
with  arms  and  ammunition,  part  of  which  he  was  selling 
to  the  Volunteer  Army.  A  kind  of  matter-of-fact  mili- 
tary cooperation  against  the  Bolsheviks  existed  between 
the  Germans,  Skoropadsky,  Krasnov  and  Alexeiev- 
Denikin.  I  personally  tried  to  transform  it  into  a  sys- 
tematic common  offensive.  My  correspondence  with 
General  Alexeiev  to  that  effect  was  recently  published. 
The  German  military  authorities  in  Kiev  were  also  in- 
terested in  that  scheme  of  overthrowing  the  Bolsheviks, 
but  they  were  unwilling  or  powerless  to  change  the 
German  general  policy  towards  Russia.  On  their  part, 
the  Volunteer  Army  looked  at  the  activity  of  Skoro- 
padsky and  Krasnov  as  traitorous  towards  the  Allies, 
and  the  anti-Bolshevist  movement  inside  Russia  was, 
as  we  have  seen,  closely  associated  with  the  Allies. 
Under  such  conditions,  the  Germans  dropped  the  idea 
of  a  rapprochement  with  Alexeiev,  and  proceeded  to 
build  in  the  Ukraine,  in  Pskov  and  in  Astrakhan  the 
nuclei  of  new  Russian  anti-Bolshevist  armies,  formed 
of  the  most  reactionary  elements.  It  is  difficult  to  say 
what  the  outcome  of  such  beginnings  might  have  been, 
because  very  soon  the  Germans  were  defeated  and  asked 


146     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

for  an  armistice.  The  second  chance  to  liberate  Russia 
— from  the  South — thus  came  to  naught. 

The  Russian  political  parties  working  in  the  Ukraine, 
the  Don  and  the  Caucasus  then  decided  to  make  direct 
representations  to  the  Allies.  All  the  political  groups 
already  mentioned,  the  more  advanced  "Union  for  the 
Resurrection  of  Russia,"  the  "National  Center"  which 
was  especially  influential  at  Denikin's  headquarters, 
and  the  conservative  groups  newly  reconstructed  in 
Kiev,  sent  their  mission  to  the  Allied  representatives  in 
Rumania  and,  later  on  (December,  1918),  via  Constan- 
tinople, to  Paris  and  London.  The  leading  idea  was 
to  save  Southern  Russia  after  the  armistice  from  a  new 
invasion  of  the  Bolsheviks.  It  seemed  natural,  before 
embarking  on  the  liberation  of  Central  Russia,  at  least 
to  preserve  such  important  parts  of  Russia  as  already 
were  free  from  the  calamity  with  which  they  were  now 
menaced.  The  aim  of  the  intervention  which  was  be- 
ginning on  the  Volga  and  in  Siberia  could  also  be  bet- 
ter attained  and  at  less  effort  and  expense  if  Southern 
Russia  were  used  as  a  starting  point.  The  armistice 
agreement  foresaw  the  right  of  the  Allied  forces  to  come 
and  to  take  the  place  of  the  retreating  Germans.  What 
had  been  easy  for  the  latter — to  keep  order  in  the 
Ukraine — would  have  been  still  easier  for  the  victorious 
Allies.  Without  a  shot,  the  best  part  of  Russia  could 
have  been  thus  preserved  in  order,  and  a  chance  given 
for  the  formation  in  the  South  of  a  real  national  army. 
Anti-Bolshevist  Russia,  in  such  a  case,  would  have  been 
able  to  cope  with  the  Bolsheviks  with  her  own  forces, 
without  any  military  intervention. 

We  (I  was  a  member  of  that  mission)  were  success- 
ful in  our  negotiations  in  Rumania,  in  the  Balkans  and 
in  Constantinople.  A  few  divisions  were  ready  to  be 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  147 

sent  to  Southern  Russia  via  Salonica,  and  there  were 
ships  enough  to  transport  them  to  Russian  harbors. 
But  no  sanction  was  given  to  these  schemes  in  Paris 
and  in  London.  The  motives  leaked  out  at  a  discus- 
sion between  the  heads  of  the  Allied  Governments  in 
Paris,  a  few  weeks  later  (Jan.  16,  1919).  Both  Mr. 
Lloyd  George  and  President  Wilson  had  received  in- 
formation from  their  experts  that  the  Allied  troops  in 
Europe  were  unwilling  to  stay  there  longer,  that 
troubles  had  already  occurred  amongst  the  Canadians 
and  other  troops.  "If  the  British  tried  to  send  any 
more  troops  there  would  be  mutiny,"  Mr.  Lloyd  George 
concluded.  The  150,000  men  we  asked  for  (the  request 
was  also  supported  by  General  Franchet  d'Esperey 
and  by  M.  Scavenius)  was  declared  to  be  an  insufficient 
number.  Mr.  Lloyd  George  thought  that  at  least  400,- 
000  were  required.  His  general  view  was  that  "the 
mere  idea  of  crushing  Bolshevism  by  a  military  force 
was  pure  madness."  On  a  false  report  that  the  Bol- 
sheviks were  ready  to  come  to  terms,  he  proposed  to 
"summon  these  people  to  Paris  .  .  .  somewhat  in  the 
way  that  the  Roman  Empire  summoned  the  chiefs  of 
outlying  tributary  States  to  render  an  account  of  their 
actions."  In  his  February  speech  before  the  Commons 
Mr.  Lloyd  George  used  another  simile,  equally  humili- 
ating: He  compared  the  fighting  "factions"  in  Russia 
with  the  turbulent  tribes  on  the  Northwestern  frontier 
of  India  which  had  to  be  brought  to  reason  by  some 
Commissioner,  "to  avoid  the  costly  expedition."  A 
little  more  knowledge  in  the  matter  would  have  shown 
that  the  only  means  to  avoid  the  really  costly  expedi- 
tions which  followed  was  to  accept  the  advice  that  was 
rejected.  With  its  rejection  the  third  chance  to  help 
Russia  to  her  speedy  recovery  was  left  unused.  Di- 


148     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

rectly  afterwards  the  Ukraine  was  actually  occupied  by 
the  Bolsheviks. 

We  now  come  to  the  year  1919,  the  period  of  a  be- 
lated but  real  Allied  intervention  in  the  anti-Bolshevist 
struggle.  This  time  it  was  not  small  groups  of  par- 
tisans, but  large  and  disciplined  armies  which  were 
fighting  against  the  Soviets.  Munitions  and  arms,  at 
least  at  the  end  of  that  period,  were  also  not  lacking. 
But  there  was  also  a  Red  Army  on  the  Bolsheviks' 
side,  while  on  the  side  of  the  anti-Bolsheviks  there  was 
the  damaging  policy  of  reaction.  The  whole  psychol- 
ogy of  the  situation  was  now  different  from  that  of 
1918. 

It  was  in  Siberia  that  the  conflict  between  the  two 
wings  of  the  anti-Bolshevist  parties  broke  out  in  the 
open.  In  Southern  Russia  the  conflict  also  existed, 
in  a  latent  stage,  but  owing  to  the  authority  of  Gen. 
Alexeiev  and  Gen.  Denikin  the  reactionary  extremists 
were  kept  well  under  control.  In  Siberia,  the  attitudes 
of  the  reactionary  officers  and  the  old  regime  officials, 
on  the  one  side,  and  of  the  socialistic  parties — which 
were  predominant  in  the  self-governing  bodies — on  the 
other,  were  so  mutually  uncompromising  that  clash  was 
bound  to  come  at  the  first  encounter.  The  situation 
was  complicated  by  the  fact  that  there,  as  well  as  in 
Southern  Russia,  there  existed  a  strong  antagonism 
between  the  local  autonomous  strivings  and  the  "All- 
Russian"  program  of  liberation  brought  to  Siberia  by 
both  the  socialist  and  reactionary  parties.  Local  Si- 
berian patriotism  turned,  in  the  first  place,  against  the 
socialist  "All-Russian"  Government,  and  afterwards 
against  the  non-socialist  Government  of  Kolchak, 
which  was  equally  "All-Russian,"  not  Siberian.  Ac- 
cordingly, the  local  opposition  changed  color — or, 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  149 

rather,  at  different  stages  it  originated  from  different 
groups.  It  was  conservative  against  the  socialists,  and 
radical  against  Kolchak.  Last,  but  not  least,  there 
was  one  more  influential  factor  in  Siberia:  the  Czecho- 
slovaks who  played  here,  at  the  side  of  the  Russian 
anti-Bolsheviks,  the  part  played  by  the  Cossacks  in 
Southern  Russia,  at  the  side  of  the  Volunteer  Army. 

They  also  formed  the  backbone  of  the  anti-Bolshevist 
forces,  and  their  cooperation  or  abstention  decided  mili- 
tary success  or  failure.  The  Czecho-Slovaks  were  much 
more  dissatisfied  with  the  reactionary  policy  of  the 
anti-Bolshevist  leaders  than  the  Cossacks,  and  in  a 
much  more  decisive  way  they  took  sides  with  the  radi- 
cal anti-Bolsheviks.  Moreover,  they  felt  much  more 
free  to  stay  or  to  go,  as  the  fate  of  their  country  did 
not  depend  on  the  issue  of  the  struggle.  The  Cossacks 
also  regularly  became  homesick  and  preferred  to  leave, 
when  they  had  to  fight  outside  their  own  territories, 
but  they  were  unable  to  separate  their  own  cause  from 
that  of  the  liberation  of  Russia,  while  the  Czechs  did 
it  at  the  first  opportunity.  This  parallel  explains  to  a 
great  extent  the  difference  in  the  trend  of  events  in  Si- 
beria and  in  Southern  Russia,  while  evolving  practically 
from  the  same  elements  and  winding  up  with  the  same 
results. 

We  noted  military  successes  of  the  anti-Bolshevist 
"People's  Army"  on  the  Volga  (June- August,  1918), 
which  were  due  to  the  help  of  the  Czecho-Slovaks,  and 
we  also  noted  their  final  collapse  (September-October) 
caused  by  the  absence  of  the  more  substantial  help 
promised  by  the  Allies.  Siberia  was  liberated  from  the 
Bolsheviks  at  the  beginning  of  that  period,  and  it  re- 
mained anti-Bolshevist  up  to  the  end  of  1919. 

However,  the  method  of  liberation  was  here  different 


150     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

from  that  on  the  Volga.  The  basic  feature  in  common 
was  the  participation  of  the  Czecho-Slovaks  who,  as 
we  know,  were  scattered  over  the  entire  length  of  Si- 
beria's railroad  lines,  from  the  Urals  to  Vladivostok. 
But  instead  of  the  democratic  "People's  Army"  organ- 
ized by  the  Social-Revolutionaries  from  Samara,  the 
task  of  the  overthrow  was  taken  up  by  the  secret  organ- 
izations of  the  officers  who  were  incensed  against  the 
socialists  because  of  their  part  in  the  Revolution  and 
especially  in  the  suppression  of  the  Kornilov  uprising. 
Backed  by  the  Czechs,  who  numbered  about  40,000  men, 
the  officers'  organizations,  led  by  Colonel  Grishin-Al- 
mazov,  easily  set  free  the  chief  towns  on  the  railway 
line  (June,  1918),  as  the  Bolshevist  power  in  Siberia 
had  not  had  time'to  strike  root  in  the  peasant  popula- 
tion and  was  not  supported  by  the  burgesses.  But 
then  they  found  that  a  "Government  of 'autonomous 
Siberia'^was  already  in  existence.  It  had  been  elected 
as  early  as  January  26,  1918,  at  a  secret  meeting  of  a 
few  members  of  the  "Siberian  Regional  Duma"  (20 
out  of  150)  in  Tomsk,  at  the  very  moment  when  that 
Duma  was  dissolved  by  the  Bolsheviks.  The  composi- 
tion of  that  Siberian  Government  was  too  radical  for 
the  officers.  But  the  most  radical  members  had  fled 
from  the  Bolsheviks  to  Vladivostok,  and  on  June  30, 
the  more  moderate  five  (out  of  fifteen)  proclaimed 
themselves  at  Omsk  a  legal  Siberian  Government  pos- 
sessing sovereign  power  over  the  whole  Siberian  terri- 
tory. This  was  the  first  coup  d'etat,  which,  however, 
did  not  quite  satisfy  the  officers,  as  the  five  ministers 
were  still  under  suspicion  of  sharing  socialistic  views. 
However,  the  bourgeois  groups  approved  the  decisively 
anti-Bolshevist  decrees  of  the  new  Government,  while 
the  socialists  were  placated  by  the  Government's  prom- 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  151 

ise  to  convoke  the  "Regional  Duma,"  Social-Revolu- 
tionary in  its  majority,  for  a  new  session  on  August  15. 

There  were  now  two  anti-Bolshevist  Governments: 
that  of  Samara,  which  insisted  on  its  being  recognized 
as  "All-Russian"  and  as  basing  its  power  on  the  Con- 
stituent Assembly  of  1917,  and  that  of  Omsk,  which 
swore  allegiance  to  the  white-green  banner  of  the  "in- 
dependent" (or,  at  least,  autonomous)  Siberia  and  did 
not  wish  its  power  limited  even  by  that  of  the  Siberian 
"Regional  Duma." 

The  Czecho-Slovaks  insisted  on  the  building  of  one, 
single  All-Russian  Government.  Under  their  pressure, 
after  two  preliminary  conferences  in  Chaliabinsk,  on 
15-16  July  and  on  August  23,  the  representatives  of 
all  the  local  Governments  and  all  the  political  groups 
met  in  September  in  Ufa.  The  Social-Revolutionaries 
were  in  the  majority  (more  than  100  out  of  200),  but 
it  was  decided  that  all  resolutions  should  be  adopted 
unanimously.  It  was  just  the  moment  when  the  Volga 
front  was  definitely  crumbling,  and  the  Czecho-Slovaks 
threatened  to  leave  the  front  and  Siberia  if  there  should 
be  no  agreement.  A  compromise  was  finally  reached, 
and  a  Provisional  All-Russian  Government  elected  on 
September  23,  1918,  partly  formed  of  the  candidates 
chosen  by  the  political  groups  in  May  in  Moscow.1 
Omsk  was  selected  as  the  seat  of  government,  and  until 
January  1,  1919,  when  the  Constituent  Assembly  was 
supposed  to  meet,  the  "Directory"  was  invested  with 
the  supreme  power. 

But  two  days  before,  on  September  20,  a  second  coup 
d'etat  had  been  carried  out  in  Omsk  by  the  reactionary 

1N.  D.  Avxentiev;  N.  I.  Astrov  (substitute,  V.  Vinogradov) ;  Gen. 
V.  Boldyrev  (substitute,  Gen.  Alexeiev) ;  N.  V.  Chaikovsky  (substi- 
tute, Zenzinov),  and  Mr.  Vologodsky  (the  Siberian  Premier).  Vino- 
gradov and  Zenzinov  took  the  places  of  the  absent  two. 


152     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

officers,  in  order  to  "save  the  country  from  the  per- 
nicious influence  of  the  socialist  ministers."  The  Si- 
berian ministers  suspected  of  extremism  had  just  come 
to  Omsk  from  the  Far  East.  Two  of  them  were  ar- 
rested, and  the  third  (Novosselov)  was  killed  by  the 
officers.  The  Regional  Duma  was  dissolved.  This 
time  the  Czecho-Slovaks  decided  to  intervene  on  the 
side  of  the  socialists,  and  they  arrested  the  acting  Min- 
ister of  the  Interior.  The  conflict  was  solved  by  a 
compromise,  pending  the  arrival  in  Omsk  of  the  All- 
Russian  "Directory"  chosen  in  Ufa. 

The  Provisional  Government  arrived  on  October  9. 
They  found  an  extremely  heated  atmosphere.  Lengthy 
negotiations  ensued  between  the  "supreme  power"  just 
recognized,  and  the  Siberian  ministers.  The  Directory 
made  all  the  concessions  that  proved  necessary:  they 
guaranteed  the  Siberian  autonomy,  promised  a  peaceful 
self-dissolution  of  the  Regional  Duma,  nominated  nine 
former  ministers  (out  of  14)  to  take  part  in  the  new 
cabinet.  Among  the  newly-nominated  ministers  was 
Admiral  Kolchak.  Avxentiev  expected  to  be  soon  rec- 
ognized by  the  Allies.  .  .  . 

The  military  group  now  decided  to  prepare  for  a 
third  coup  d'etat.  The  candidate  for  a  dictatorship 
was  ready  in  the  person  of  Kolchak.  The  last  meas- 
ure to  take  was  to  show  Kolchak,  who  had  recently 
come  to  Omsk  from  the  East,  to  his  army.  He  went 
to  the  front  and  came  back  on  November  16.  In  the 
night  of  Nov.  18,  Avxentiev  and  his  colleagues  in  the 
Directory  were  arrested  by  the  officers.  It  is  now 
known  that  the  British  military  attache,  Gen.  Knox, 
then  in  Omsk,  approved  of  the  overthrow.  The  Coun- 
cil of  Ministers  endorsed  the  accomplished  fact.  After 
a  short  and  embarrassed  discussion  all  decided  for  a 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  153 

dictatorship  and  against  the  "Directory"  as  the  form 
of  government,  and  all  voted  for  Kolchak,  as  the  "Su- 
preme Ruler." 

A  year 'later,  in  his  deposition  before  the  Bolshevist 
tribunal  which  sentenced  him  to  death,  Admiral  Kol- 
chak recognized  that  the  coup  d'etat  of  Nov.  18,  1918, 
was  a  political  mistake.  One  might  add  that  the  mis- 
take was  not  his  own,  and  that  it  was  much  more  than 
a  mistake.  The  events  in  Siberia  which  are  just  de- 
scribed make  it  clear  why  Russia  could  not  be  liber- 
ated by  the  anti-Bolshevist  forces.  Both  socialists  and 
non-socialists  had  not  yet  fully  learned  their  lessons. 
The  mistakes  of  1917  were  not  yet  forgotten  and  for- 
given to  the  socialists.  The  non-socialists  were  just 
committing  their  own  mistakes,  and  thus  the  cause  for 
which  they  fought  was  doomed  to  lose.  Moreover,  with 
the  coup  d'etat  of  November  18  a  turning-point  was 
reached  after  which  even  that  kind  of  very  imperfect 
cooperation  that  had  existed  between  the  two  anti- 
Bolshevist  groups  since  November  7,  1917,  definitely 
broke  down.  The  military  element  was  left  to  itself 
and  has  made  itself  an  exponent  of  social  groups  and 
tendencies  of  the  old  regime.  The  socialist  element  has 
not  yet  detached  itself  from  its  extremist  connections. 
Between  the  two  extremes,  the  right  wing  of  the  So- 
cial-Revolutionaries and  the  left  wing  of  the  Constitu- 
tional-Democrats, i.e.,  the  very  elements  that  were 
united  in  the  "All-Russian"  Government  of  Avxentiev, 
might  have  been  able  to  form  a  democratic  center. 
But  these  elements  were  as  yet  few  and  powerless  to 
combat  the  prejudices  of  their  opponents  on  both  ex- 
treme wings  of  public  opinion.  The  Allied  representa- 
tives might  also  bring  the  help,  but  they  did  not  know 
again,  as  had  been  the  case  in  1917,  where  to  find  that 


154     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

center.  In  May,  1918,  M.  Albert  Thomas  had  helped 
to  enthrone  Kerensky.  In  November,  1918,  Gen.  Knox 
ousted  Avxentiev.  A  coalition  had  been  formed  when 
it  was  dangerous  for  the  success  of  the  Revolution.  It 
was  now  destroyed  just  at  the  tune  when  it  was  vital 
for  the  liberation  of  Russia. 

Who  was  Kolchak?  I  came  to  know  the  man  in 
1908,  under  characteristic  circumstances.  I  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  democratic  opposition  in  the  Third  Duma, 
and  he  was  a  young  and  brilliant  naval  officer,  fearless, 
learned  and  deeply  patriotic.  He  fought  for  a  program 
of  reconstruction  of  the  Russian  fleet,  which  had  been 
destroyed  at  Tsushima,  and,  quite  exceptionally  in  his 
position,  he  was  not  afraid  to  address  himself  to  the 
group  of  deputies  then  considered  to  be  most  dangerous 
revolutionaries  by  the  Government.  Like  General 
Alexeiev,  he  was  among  the  first  to  recognize  the  March 
Revolution  of  1917,  as  Commander-in-Chief  of  the 
Russian  Black  Sea  Fleet.  Like  Denikin,  he  struggled 
as  long  as  possible  against  the  dissolution  of  the  na- 
tional armed  forces  and  he  did  not  wish  to  serve  the 
government  of  Kerensky,  who  was  generally  accused 
of  being  responsible  for  that  dissolution.  Hence  his 
hatred  against  the  Social-Revolutionaries. 

The  group  of  officers  which  sought  for  a  dictator  had 
singled  him  out  to  play  the  part  which  a  little  later 
Kornilov  was  induced  to  play  so  unsuccessfully.  Kol- 
chak's  sense  of  duty  and  readiness  for  self-sacrifice 
might  have  impelled  him  to  listen  to  their  appeal,  but 
there  was  something  in  him  which  did  not  permit  him 
to  accept.  He  followed  the  advice  of  some  political 
friends — to  save  himself  for  the  future — and  left  for 
America  on  a  special  invitation.  His  appearance  in  the 
Far  East  is  surely  connected  with  the  decision  of  the 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  155 

Allies  to  intervene,  and  he  was  doomed  to  pass  through 
all  the  vicissitudes  of  that  intervention,  which  here 
showed  itself  at  its  worst.  At  the  very  beginning  of  it 
Kolchak  repudiated  being  a  weapon  of  Japan,  unlike 
Semenov  (see  Chapter  X),  and  he  returned  from  East- 
ern Siberia  to  Tokio.  He  was  ready  to  fight  the  enemy 
under  the  British  in  Mesopotamia,  but  on  his  way  there 
he  received  a  new  call  and  came  back  to  Western  Siberia 
in  the  Autumn  of  1918  when  intervention  had  become 
a  general  (as  opposed  to  purely  Japanese)  Allied  un- 
dertaking. I  am  rather  inclined  to  think  that'he  knew 
what  was  being  prepared  for  him  by  General  Knox 
(who  had  met  him  in  August,  1918,  in  Tokio)  and  by 
the  reactionary  officers  for  November  18.  A  man  of 
vioble  character  and  heart,  he  was,  however,  a  fresh- 
man in  politics  and  thus  bound  to  depend  on  other 
people's  opinions  for  arriving  at  the  most  important 
and  responsible  political  decisions.  He  had  no  per- 
sonal ambition  and  there  was  not  a  jot  of  the  dictator 
in  him.  The  reputation  of  an  "iron  will"  did  not  at  all 
correspond  with  his  real  nature,  extremely  sensitive  and 
refined.  But  he  felt  it  his  duty  to  play  in  all  conscience 
the  part  he  was  given,  and  he  patiently  wore  his  mask. 
Like  his  southern  colleague,  Denikin,  he  was  unable  to 
make  use  of  his  strongest  side,  his  military  knowledge 
and  talent.  The  daily  business  of  a  supreme  ruler  was 
so  cumbersome  and  the  details  of  it  were  so  new  to 
both  that  their  complete  attention  was  absorbed,  and 
the  real  direction  of  affairs,  concerning  the  civil  admin- 
istration as  well  as  concerning  military  operations, 
gradually  slipped  out  of  their  hands.  Kolchak,  as  he 
grew  aware  of  it,  became  extremely  nervous,  and  he 
vainly  tried  to  supply  with  outbursts  of  wrath — which 
became  more  and  more  frequent — what  was  lacking  in 


156     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

steady  design  and  in  firmness  of  will  and  purpose. 
Denikin,  more  disciplined  and  equilibrated,  tried  to 
remain  equal  to  the  task,  and  he  submitted  to  the  in- 
evitable and  fatal  in  his  situation  with  equanimity  and 
even  with  a  certain  sense  of  humor.  But  the  result  was 
the  same:  a  growing  contrast  between  claim  and 
achievement, — the  showy  display  of  a  resuscitated 
"All-Russian"  Government  and  an  extremely  poor  re- 
ality upon  which  it  was  artificially  built.  This  also 
explains  why  both  political  structures,  which  seemed 
so  solid  for  a  few  moments,  crumpled  so  rapidly  and 
so  completely  to  the  very  foundations. 

On  the  face  of  it,  the  Omsk  Government  looked  so 
firmly  established  indeed  that  most  of  its  members  and 
adherents  at  once  felt  transported  to  their  customary 
atmosphere  of  a  normal  statehood  and  acted  accord- 
ingly. The  "Supreme  Ruler"  was  surrounded  with  the 
attributes  of  power.  A  brilliant  diplomatic  corps  of 
the  Allied  Powers  made  people  forget  that  as  yet  there 
had  been  no  recognition  extended  to  that  Government. 
The  whole  set  of  former  State  institutions  functioned 
according  to  the  former  State  Law :  legislation,  finance, 
trade,  justice,  administration, — each  of  these  branches 
had  its  own  organ,  provided  with  a  numerous  person- 
nel of  former  experienced  functionaries  and  specialists. 
They  were  even  much  more  numerous  than  ordinarily, 
even  for  an  "All-Russian"  scale,  as  there  were  so  many 
refugees  gathered  from  everywhere  in  that  small  pro- 
vincial town,  with  no  "society"  at  all,  except  some  local 
tradesmen.  There  was  also  a  regular  army  formed 
partly  of  volunteer,  partly  of  conscripted  soldiers,  with 
more  officers  at  the  rear  than  there  were  at  the  front. 
The  army  began  to  win  its  first  victories :  on  December 
23,  1918,  Perm  was  taken;  on  March  14,  1919,  Ufa  was 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  157 

taken  back  from  the  Bolsheviks.  The  official  and  the 
semi-official  press  was  enthusiastic  about  these  military 
successes,  and  some  people  began  to  speak  of  Moscow. 
The  only  doubt  was  whether  Moscow  should  be  taken 
from  the  North,  with  Archangel's  help,  or  from  the 
South,  with  Denikin's  help.  There  were  even  some 
moments  in  September,  1919,  when  military  successes 
in  Siberia  coincided  with  similar  successes  on  other 
fronts — in  the  South,  in  the  West,  in  the  North  of 
Russia.  The  final  solution  seemed  to  be  approaching. 
Drafts  of  laws  were  being  prepared  in-  a  number  of 
different  ministerial  boards,  "on  an  All-Russian  scale." 
They  were  being  discussed,  and  revised,  and  discussed 
again  .  .  . 

What  was  the  reverse,  the  actual  state  of  things?  It 
consisted,  in  the  first  place,  in  the  fact  that  the  power 
of  the  Omsk  Government  did  not  go  farther  than  the 
town  of  Omsk.  The  large  masses,  the  peasant  pop^ula- 
tion  remained  quite  indifferent  towards  the  new  power. 
One  of  the  Kolchak  Ministers,  Mr.  Guins,  made  a  trip 
to  a  village  250  miles  from  Omsk.  "What  about  the 
Bolsheviks?"  he  asked  a  peasant.  "Well,  what  did  they 
do  to  us?"  was  the  answer.  "They  just  came  here  like 
you,  and  also  came  to  my  house,  because  it  is  the  pret- 
tiest, and  they  wore  rifles,  like  you."  "Have  you  heard 
something  of  Kolchak?"  Mr.  Guins  asked  an- old  Cos- 
sack. "No,  nothing.  He  is  probably  an  Englishman?" 
the  old  man  asked.  The  peasants'  answers,  according 
to  a  Siberian  newspaper  inquiry,  may  be  summed  up 
by  the  following  statement:  "We  cannot  judge  about 
parties.  Let  come  what  will,  if  only  we  can  get  more 
land  and  pay  less  taxes.  Old  men  and  women  are 
afraid  of  the  Bolsheviks,  but  the  young  ones  approve 
of  the  Bolsheviks  because  they  ended  the  war."  "It  is 


158     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

time  to  finish  the  war,"  the  peasants  repeated  at  a 
meeting.  "It  is  not  good  to  make  war  without  end." 

But  that  was  just  what  the  new  power  was  doing. 
Its  only  contact  with  the  population  was  on  the  cause 
of  war.  Conscriptions  and  requisitions  were  inevitable. 
The  peasants  were  quite  willing  to  comply,  but  not 
"without  end."  They  grew  especially  unwilling  when 
they  came  to  know  that  it  was  not  a  "Siberian"  but 
an  "All-Russian"  Government  which  was  forcing  them 
to  serve  and  to  pay,  and  that  the  struggle  was  going 
on  somewhere  on  the  other  side  of  the  Urals.  An  "All- 
Russian"  war  was  more  than  Siberia  could  afford.  And 
from  the  very  beginning  of  Kolchak's  power  military 
coercion  was  the  only  means  to  carry  on  the  war.  But 
military  coercion  definitely  deprived-  the  Government 
of  the  sympathies  of  the  population,  and  issued  in  peas- 
ant uprisings  which  the  military  authorities  stifled  with 
great  severity.  The  population,  which  did  not  yet  know 
the  Bolshevist  regime,  decided  that  Bolshevism  was 
better. 

Mr.  Guins,  whom*  I  have  just  quoted,  repeats  for  us  a 
conversation  with  Admiral  Kolchak  which  makes  es- 
pecially clear  that  fatal  vicious  circle.  "I  am  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief,"  Kolchak  said,  "and  my  aim  is  a 
military  one :  to  break  the  Red  Army.  Civil  war  must 
be  pitiless.  One  of  us  must  shoot  the  other.  That  is 
why  I  think  that  all  your  civil  legislation  is  useless. 
However  good  will  be  our  laws,  if  we  fail,  they  will 
shoot  us."  "But  just  in  order  not  to  fail  we  must 
secure  order  and  good  administration,"  the  Minister 
answered.  "The  people  may  not  be  interested  in  par- 
liaments and  republics,  but  they  are  interested  in  the 
personalities  in  possession  of  power  who  are  in  close 
touch  with  them.  We  must  cooperate  with  new  men. 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  159 

Your  chancelleries  do  not«have  any  initiative  and  base 
themselves  on  old  laws,  instead  of  adapting  themselves 
to  new  conditions.  Your  generals  are  abolishing  the 
local  civil  authorities  and  popular  self-government. 
We  cannot  succeed  if  we  do  not  inspire  the  people  and 
do  not  build  a  political  point  d'appui.  Do  you  not  feel 
that  the  people  around  us  are  indifferent  to  us  and  look 
at  us,  your  ministers,  as  something  temporary  and  sec- 
ondary? That  is  why  we  have  been  unable  to  create 
a  support  for  you  in  the  country,  to  build  a  'peasant' 
defense  in  the  provinces,  a  'peasant'  parliament  in  the 
center.  Since  the  overthrow  of  November  18,  1918, 
the  power  is  centered  in  the  military  circles  and  the 
civil  administration  has  been  absorbed  "by  you  and  by 
your  generals,  who  have  taken  upon  themselves  too 
much  responsibility.  Our  struggle  against  the  Bol- 
sheviks has  become  too  much  impregnated  with  coun- 
ter-revolution." "You  are  right,"  Kolchak  answered, 
"the  spirit  of  the  country  must  be  aroused,  but  I  do 
not  believe  in  conferences  and  discussions.  I  can  be- 
lieve in  tanks,  which  I  never  succeed  in  getting  from 
our  dear  Allies;  I  believe  in  a  loan,  which  might 
straighten  our  finance;  in  manufactured  goods  which 
could  cheer  up  the  village.  But  where  can  I  get  them 
from?  If  I  only  could  improve  the  sanitary  situation 
of  the  army!  .  .  .  Do  you  not  know  that  certain  de- 
tachments are  just  like  moving  hospitals?  No  laws 
and  no  reforms  can  help  if  we  suffer  new  defeats.  It 
is  not  laws  but  men  that  matter.  What  can  you  do 
when  you  are  surrounded  with  thieves,  or  cowards,  or 
ignorants?  We  build  with  bad  stuff.  Everything  is 
rotten.  The  degree  of  general  pollution  simply  amazes 
me.  And  the  ministers,  well,  they  live  on  their  paper 
work.  It  would  help  us  much  more  if  instead  of  pre- 


160     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

paring  drafts  of  laws  they  would  shoot  five  or  six 
scoundrelly  militiamen  or  a  couple  of  speculators.  But 
nobody  wants  to  make  use  of  his  power." — "All  right, 
let  me  order  that  the  military  censors  be  made  subordi- 
nate to  the  governors  of  provinces?" — "No,  by  no 
means ;  I  am  Supreme  Commander,  and  I  am  responsi- 
ble for  everything.  I  cannot  change  the  'Regulation 
for  field  administration  of  the  Army'  and  the  respective 
construction  of  power;  the  experience  and  the  genius 
of  ages  is  embodied  in  it." 1 

The  conflict  between  the  psychology  of  the  "new 
men"  and  the  "genius  of  ages"  was  really  tragic.  The 
rift  between  the  military  leaders  and  officials  of  the  old 
generation  on  the  one  side,  and  the  political  parties  and 
the  population  on  the  other,  had  been  steadily  increas- 
ing since  November  18,  1918.  The  Social-Revolution- 
aries who  were  mostly  in  the  majority  in  the  local  Zem- 
stvos  and  Dumas  (County  Councils  and  Municipalities, 
reflected  under  the  Revolution  on  the  basis  of  universal 
suffrage)  declared  war  on  the  Kolchak  Government. 
On  the  other  hand,  Kolchak's  generals  considered  as 
revolutionary  even  such  modest  consultative  assemblies 
as  were  legally  formed  to  discuss  questions  of  finance, 
economy  and  the  electoral  law.  The  central  bloc  of 
moderate  socialist  and  liberal  groups,  which  tried  to 
give  Kolchak  the  support.of  public  opinion,  made  some 
attempts  to  compromise,  but  was  never  taken  in  earn- 
est and  finally  fell  to  pieces.  As  long  as  there  was  some 
success  at  the  front,  compromise  with  public  opinion 
seemed  immaterial.  When  the  period  of  defeats  came, 
no  compromise  was  possible  any  more. 

1 G.  K.  Guins'  book  on  "Siberia,  the  Allies  and  Kolchak"  was  pub- 
lished in  Pekin,  1921,  in  two  volumes  in  Russian.  It  contains  a  great 
deal  of  first-hand  material. 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  161 

General  Knox  explains  the  military  defeat  of  the 
Kolchak  forces  by  the  fact  that  "things  were  taken  out 
of  Kolchak's  hands."  He  wished  to  proceed  slowly  and 
"gradually  to  work  up  the  recruits  to  the  necessary  level 
of  efficiency."  Such  was  also  the  view  of  the  organizer 
of  the  Siberian  Army,  Grishin-Almazov.  But  on  his 
coming  to  power  Kolchak  found  that  "the  Siberian 
Government  had  already  ordered  a  mobilization  of 
80,000  recruits."  Grishin-Almazov  was  dismissed  by 
one  of  the  plots  arranged  by  the  officers'  organization 
as  early  as  September  5,  1918.  Under  his  successor, 
Ivanov-Renov,  the  old  army  regime  was  reestablished, 
and  the  army  had  become  an  independent  factor  before 
Kolchak  appeared.  The  "dictator,"  obviously,  could 
not  dictate  to  such  as  put  him  in  power,  and, — I  quote 
again  Gen.  Knox'  authoritative  statement, — the  recruits 
"were  called  up  where  there  was  insufficient  barrack  ac- 
commodation, clothing  and  trained  instructors.  They 
were  sent  to  the  front  half  trained.  Thus  our  task 
was  half  lost  before  we  began."  The  severities  of  the 
winter  campaign  did  the  rest.  The  only  moments  of  en- 
thusiasm and  success  reached  at  the  front  were  con- 
nected with  the  activity  of  the  democratic  Ural  army, 
formed  of  some  tens  of  thousands  of  working  men  from 
the  Ishevsk  and  Votkinsk  mining  concerns.  This  was 
also  the  only  army  that  did  not  dissolve  and  pass  over 
to  the  Bolsheviks  when  the  general  retreat  began  in 
October,  1919. 

With  the  retreat,  the  attitude  of  the  Allies  changed 
at  once.  It  is  known  that  at  the  end  of  May,  1919, 
the  question  of  Kolchak's  recognition  was  formally 
raised.  It  was  reduced  to  the  mere  promise  "to  assist 
Admiral  Kolchak  and  his  associates  with  munitions, 
supplies  and  food,  to  establish  themselves  as  the  Gov- 


162     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

ernment  of  All-Russia"  on  certain  conditions  formu- 
lated by  the  "Big  Four"  in  their  note  to  Kolchak  on 
May  26.  Kolchak  stood  the  test,  and  his  answer  of 
June  5  was  declared  by  the  Allies,  on  June  12,  "to  be 
in  the  main,  in  accord  with  the  proposal"  they  made 
to  him,  "and  to  contain  satisfactory  assurances,"  as  to 
his  democratic  intentions.  The  recognition  was  ex- 
pected to  come,  but  there  was  one  more  "test"  to  pass 
through, — a  test  of  arms.  If  this  did  not  prove  satis- 
factory, no  more  aid  was  to  come  from  the  Allies.  "Kol- 
chak is  not  strong  enough  for  us  to  support  him,"  was 
now  the  view  of  the  Allies.  All  requests  for  help  at  this 
critical  moment  were  politely  declined.  The  Czecho- 
slovaks finally  declared  (November  13,  1919)  that  they 
could  not  bear  further  responsibility  for  the  "burning 
of  villages,  the  killing  of  peaceful  Russian  citizens  by 
the  hundreds,  the  shooting  of  representatives  of  democ- 
racy without  trial,  on  the  mere  suspicion  of  political 
unreliability,"  which  had  become  familiar  occurrences 
under  the  military  rule  of  Kolchak.  They  wished  "im- 
mediately to  go  home."  At  the  same  time,  uprisings  in 
the  villages  had  become  universal,  and  the  Social-Revo- 
lutionary groups  had  already  in  October  discussed  the 
overthrow  of  the  Government.  A  new  political  organi- 
zation was  formed  in  Irkutsk,  under  the  name  of  the 
"Political  Center,"  which  united  the  Central  Committee 
of  the  Social-Revolutionaries,  the  Social-Democrats 
"Mensheviks,"  the  Zemstvo  boards  and  professional 
unions.  The  Irkutsk  Duma  on  November  26  made  their 
political  platform  clear  by  demanding  a  purely  socialist 
government  based  on  the  Zemstvos  and  Dumas  and 
on  the  class  organizations  of  workingmen  and  peas- 
ants. 

I  cannot  describe  in  detail  the  tragic  agony  of  the 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  163 

Kolchak  Government.  In  fact,  it  was  no  more  a  Gov- 
ernment, as  it  left  Omsk  on  November  10,  1919.  As 
the  Czechs  took  the  railroad  for  themselves,  the  evacua- 
tion became  exceedingly  difficult.  Kolchak  was  lost 
in  his  train,  between  Omsk  and  Irkutsk.  He  was  de- 
tached from  his  Government,  which  asked  him  by  wire 
first  for  substantial  concessions,  then  for  his  resigna- 
tion, until  it  gradually  melted  away  itself.  He  was  also 
cut  off  from  the  remnants  of  his  army,  which  was 
forced  to  start  on  an  "icy  campaign"  of  retreat  through 
snow  and  wind,  at  the  side  of  the  railway.  We  shall 
meet  again  with  these  brave  Ishevsk  and  Volkinsk 
workingmen — with  such  of  them  as  remained  alive — 
in  the  Far  East,  where  their  valiant  leader,  General 
Kappel,  tried  to  conduct  them.  (See  Chapter  X.) 

Round  Irkutsk  the  iron  ring  of  rebellion  was  gradu- 
ally tightening.  On  December  24,  the  uprising  broke 
out  in  the  city  itself.  The  Czechs  were  practically  OL< 
the  side  of  the  revolutionaries,  and  the  Allied  represent- 
atives only  formally  neutral.  They  finally  proposed  to 
Kolchak's  Minister  to  surrender  to  the  "Political  Cen- 
ter," as  it  had  "nothing  in  common  with  the  Bolshe- 
viks." The  negotiations  came  to  nothing,  as  the  "Po- 
litical Center"  did  not  want  to  guarantee  safe  passage 
to  Kolchak,  his  functionaries  and  his  retreating  army. 
On  January  5,  1920,  a  manifesto  of  the  "Political  Cen- 
ter" announced  that  "the  power  of  the  dictator,  Kol- 
chak, who  carried  the  war  against  the  people,  has  been 
overthrown  by  the  will  of  the  insurgent  people  and 
army."  Admiral  Kolchak  was  declared  an  "enemy  of 
the  people,"  and  the  Czechs,  with  the  silent  consent  of 
the  French  General  Janin,  extradited  him  to  the  new 
Irkutsk  power.  After  17  days  of  existence  that  power 
in  its  turn  surrendered  to  the  Soviet  of  Workmen's, 


164     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Peasants'  and  Soldiers'  Deputies.  On  the  approach  of 
Kappel's  army  to  Irkutsk,  on  February  7,  Admiral 
Kolchak  and  his  last  Premier,  Victor  Pepelayev,  were 
shot  by  the  Bolsheviks,  after  a  mock-trial. 

Conditions  were  much  more  favorable  for  the  libera- 
tion of  Russia  from  the  southern  part  of  it  than  from 
Siberia.  It  was  much  easier  for  the  population  to  un- 
derstand it  as  an  "All-Russian"  task  and  to  become  in- 
terested in  it.  As  the  burdens  of  being  under  the  Bol- 
shevist regime  were  already  known  from  personal  ex- 
perience in  Russia  proper, — and  especially  in  central 
parts  of  it — the  population  was  much  more  ready  to 
welcome  the  liberators.  Both  economic  means  and 
human  material  for  building  and  sustaining  large  armies 
were  far  more  readily  obtainable  than  had  been  the  case 
in  Siberia.  There  was  no  ground  for  complaints  about 
lack  of  leading  men,  which  had  generally  served  as  an 
excuse  for  the  Siberian  failure.  All  specialties,  all 
capacities,  all  political  groups  were  liberally  repre- 
sented among  the  refugees,  and  they  all  were  happy 
to  serve  the  cause.  Within  Russia  itself  there  had  also 
remained  a  plentiful  supply  of  assistants  of  every 
kind.  The  elements  of  statehood  were  much  more 
deeply  rooted  in  the  minds  and  in  the  habits  of  the 
population  of  Southern  Russia.  The  Allied  countries 
of  Europe  were  close  at  hand.  The  interstate  and  inter- 
national interest  of  restored  peace  and  solidarity,  moral, 
economic,  financial,  was  much  more  immediately  felt. 
Why  was  it  then  that  even  here,  in  spite  of  better 
means  and  richer  resources,  the  process  of  liberation 
also  failed? 

The  reasons  were  the  same  as  they  were  in  Siberia. 
To  begin  with  the  personality  of  the  leader,  of  course, 
General  A.  J.  Denikin  was  a  stronger  and  better  bal- 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  165 

anced  man  than  Kolchak:  a  "soldier"  also,  but  more 
apt  to  understand  the  political  aspect  of  the  situation. 
However,  he  is  quite  right  in  his  autocharacterization, 
when  he  says:  "To  me  the  Army  is  almost  identical 
with  all  my  life.  There  are  so  many  recollections,  dear 
and  never-to-be-forgotten,  which  are  connected  with 
it;  everything  is  so  tied  up  and  interlaced  into  one 
thread  made  of  swiftly  flown  days  of  sorrow  and  joy, 
hundreds  of  dear  tombs,  buried  dreams  and  unextin- 
guished  hopes." 1 

At  Ekaterinodar  and  Rostov,  the  "Commander-in- 
Chief  of  the  Armed  Forces  of  Southern  Russia"  (this 
was  in  1919  a  new  title  for  the  former  "Volunteer 
Army,"  now  formed  to  a  large  extent  of  conscripts)  was 
still  under  the  spell  of  these  recollections.  He  sur- 
rounded himself  with  his  fellow-generals  of  the  Bykhov 
prison  and  of  the  "icy  campaign,"  most  of  whom  were 
much  more  narrow-minded  than  he,  while  the  friends 
of  these  friends  were  connected  with  the  reactionary 
groups  of  officers.  The  civil  administration  was  repre- 
sented by  the  "Special  Council"  mentioned  above:  an 
intermediate  institution  between  a  Council  of  Minis- 
ters and  a  small  deliberate  assembly.  Personally  Gen- 
eral Denikin  sympathized  with  the  tendencies  of  its 
liberal  wing,  represented  by  some  members  of  the 
"Cadet"  Party,  and  the  "Cadets"  (Constitutional-Dem- 
ocrats) were  sometimes  made  responsible  for  his  policy. 
But  they  were  only  four  in  the  "Special  Council"  as 
against  the  twenty-three  members  of  the  conservative 
wing.  The  Council  was  presided  over  and  controlled 

1  General  Denikin's  Memoirs  ("Sketches  of  Russia's  Troubled 
Times")  are  being  published  in  Russian  in  Paris  (Pavolozky,  pub- 
lisher). It  shows  the  author  as  a  very  talented  writer.  Thus  far  two 
parts  of  the  first  volume  have  been  published,  finishing  with  the 
imprisonment  at  Berdichev,  after  the  Kornilov  uprising. 


166     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

by  a  general  whose  ideas  belonged  to  the  past  (Gen. 
Abram  Dragomirov).  With  a  kind  of  good-humored 
optimism  Gen.  Denikin  kept  in  balance  the  discordant 
elements  in  his  Council,  the  members  of  which  all  rec- 
ognized his  moral  authority.  But  the  result  was  that 
the  army  was  left  to  do  what  it  wished,  and  there  was 
a  complete  lack  of  any  political  program.  According  to 
Gen.  Denikin's  ideas  this  was  to  be  a  "transitional"  pe- 
riod, during  which  all  substantial  questions  were  to  be 
left  open,  until  the  "constructive  period"  set  in  with 
the  liberation  of  Russia  and  with  the  opening  of  a  "Na- 
tional" Assembly  (Gen.  Denikin  tried  to  avoid  using 
the  term  "Constituent  Assembly"  which  was  the  Rus- 
sian name  for  Constitutional  Convention).  If  that 
time  should  bring  with  it  a  struggle  between  the  politi- 
cal parties  for  constructive  issues,  Gen.  Denikin  had 
often  declared,  he  would  not  take  any  part  in  it,  but 
after  Russia's  liberation  would  play  Cincinnatus  and 
"plant  cabbage." 

However,  in  the  second  part  of  1919  that  kind  of 
program  proved  quite  insufficient.  The  liberated  terri- 
tory was  speedily  expanding.  At  the  end  of  September 
it  represented  a  large  quadrangle  limited  by  Kiev, 
Odessa,  Novorossiisk,  Stavropol,  Tsaritsin,  with  the  tri- 
angle of  Kiev,  Orel,  Tsaritsin  on  its  top.  But  for  a  long 
time  there  was  no  Minister  of  Interior  among  Denikin's 
"councilors."  The  civilians  felt  it  extremely  difficult 
to  combine  their  administration  with  the  matter-of-fact 
predominance  of  the  military  rule.  The  generals  were 
glad  to  be  left  free  for  as  long  a  time  as  possible.  The 
result  was  that  the  army  was  demoralized  and  the  pop- 
ulation extremely  disaffected.  There  was  at  least  one 
question  the  solution  of  which  could  not  be  possibly 
postponed:  the  agrarian  question.  Committee  after 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  167 

committee  was  appointed  by  the  "Special  Council"  to 
prepare  for  its  solution.  Their  work  was  more  than 
once  cancelled  by  Gen.  Denikin.  And  here  it  appeared 
for  the  first  time  just  how  dangerous  was  that  easy- 
going method  of  neglecting  urgent  political  demands 
and  public  opinion.  The  Commander-in-Chief  found 
himself  encircled  by  a  group  of  influential  landowners 
and  ensnared  by  their  ideology.  The  progressive  mem- 
bers of  the  Council  gave  him  unsatisfactory  advice,  and 
all  his  attempts  to  break  the  resistance  of  the  gentry 
resulted  in  complicated  compromises  where  plain  and 
decisive  solutions  were  needed  to  make  the  peasants 
confident  and  willing  to  help. 

An  uncompromising  position  was  taken  by  Denikin 
himself  and  by  his  advisers  on  the  question  of  the  Cos- 
sacks' autonomy.  "Russia  united  and  undivided"  was 
understood  by  them  in  a  sense  which  made  "federa- 
tion" appear  almost  a  treacherous  idea,  while  a  part 
of  the  Kuban  Cossacks  were  already  preaching  com- 
plete independence.  Protracted  negotiations  fostered 
ill  feeling  on  both  sides.  The  hatred  of  the  Kuban  Cos- 
sacks towards  Denikin  grew  especially  strong  when  one 
of  the  separatist  Kuban  leaders  was  murdered  by  the 
reactionary  officers,  and  another  sentenced  and  hanged 
by  one  of  the  generals  on  the  accusation  of  high  trea- 
son. One  can  imagine  how  it  reflected  itself  in  the 
state  of  mind  of  the  Cossacks  who  were  fighting  at  the 
front,  far  from  their  native  land. 

At  the  same  time,  the  reactionary  officers  considered 
Gen.  Denikin  too  much  of  a  "Cadet."  His  head  of 
the  Staff,  Gen.  Romanovsky,  was  especially  hated,  be- 
cause he  refused  to  restore  to  the  officers  of  the  old 
army  their  pre-revolutionary  distinctions  and  to  revive 
the  old  guard  organization.  They  were  also  indignant 


168     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

because  of  Denikin's  decision  to  leave  the  question  of 
monarchy  open  until  the  Constituent  Assembly's  de- 
vision.  The  situation  had  become  particularly  strained 
when,  after  the  loss  of  Kiev  and  Odessa,  new  groups 
of  politicians  and  officers  came  to  Ekaterinodar  and 
Rostov,  who  were  both  monarchist  and  pro-German. 
The  anti-Ally  feeling  was  speedily  growing  as  a  result 
of  the  half-hearted  policy  of  the  Allies,  and  the  pro- 
nounced pro-Germanism  of  the  newcomers  found  the 
ground  prepared.  The  sympathies  of  the  officers  soon 
began  to  turn  to  a  man  who  while  hi  Kiev  had  given 
proofs  of  his  monarchist  and  pro-German  tendencies. 
It  was  General  Wrangel,  a  very  gifted  military  leader, 
whose  ties  with  the  army  were  tightening  in  the  same 
degree  as  Denikin's  reputation  was  falling  down.  The 
reactionary  officers  finally  were  ready  to  resort  to  their 
usual  means  of  plotting  and  killing.  "If  I  shall  be 
killed,"  Gen.  Denikin  used  to  say,  "it  will  be  by  the 
Right  ones  (the  reactionaries)." 

How  did  all  this  affect  the  process  of  the  liberation 
of  Russia?  The  results  of  the  chaos  in  the  civil  ad- 
ministration, the  high-handed  deeds  of  the  demoralized 
army,  the  complete  neglect  of  the  interests  of  the  liber- 
ated population,  the  predominant  influence  of  the  for- 
mer privileged  class  of  landlords,  the  elimination  of  the 
democratic  parties  influential  among  the  popular 
masses,  the  growing  suspicion  on  the  part  of  the  Cos- 
sacks,— all  this  proved  fatal  to  the  hope  of  final  success. 

The  state  of  mind  of  the  population  in  the  Bolshevist 
part  of  Russia  was  more  favorable  to  Denikin's  offen- 
sive than  ever,  and  the  population  was  certainly  more 
inclined  to  help  the  liberators  than  either  the  popula- 
tion in  Southern  Russia  or  in  Siberia,  which  latter  had 
not  yet  experienced  the  evils  of  the  Bolshevist  regime. 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  169 

All  the  consequences  of  that  regime  which  are  de- 
scribed in  Chapter  VII  began  to  make  themselves  felt 
in  1919,  and  especially  in  the  second  part  of  it,  and  the 
population  had  lost  patience.  The  people  in  the  towns 
lacked  food,  and  there  was  no  personal  safety.  The 
peasants  had  stopped  sowing  and  selling  grain  and 
wanted  their  new  acquisitions  of  land  to  be  legally 
acknowledged.  The  Red  Army  did  not  wish  to  fight 
and  its  ranks  were  being  deserted.  Finance,  industry, 
the  food  and  fuel  supply,  and  the  means  of  transporta- 
tion had  reached  an  unprecedented  state  of  break-down. 
The  Soviet  powers  were  making  spasmodic  efforts  to 
wade  through  the  crisis.  Requisitions,  mobilizations, 
prosecutions  by  the  Che-Ka  seemed  to  have  reached 
the  limit,  and  all  classes  of  the  population,  intellect- 
uals, workingmen,  soldiers,  peasants  had  been  brought 
to  the  point  of  despair.  The  idea  was  wide-spread  that 
the  Bolsheviks  would  soon  be  overthrown.1 

The  "White  Army"  of  Gen.  Denikin  was  met  with 
enthusiasm.  The  intellectuals  and  the  cooperative 
workers,  who  for  the  most  part  belonged  to  moderate 
socialistic  parties,  discussed  the  question  whether  they 
must  immediately  offer  their  services  to  the  liberation 
or  wait  until  called  upon  "as  only  the  propertied  classes 
had  been  appealed  to."  Red  officers  were  quite  pre- 
pared to  go  over  and  to  join  their  former  comrades  of 
the  old  Russian  Army.  The  soldiers  found  it  useless 
to  fight  on  as  "all  the  country  is  waiting  for  the  down- 
fall of  the  Bolsheviks."  The  peasants  met  the  "White" 
detachments  on  their  knees,  and  the  bells  were  rung 

1See  a  secret  report  on  the  state  of  the  Bolshevist  part  of  Russia 
in  October,  1919,  written  by  a  close  observer  who  worked  for  two 
years  in  a  provincial  professional  union  and  lived  for  five  months 
hidden  among  the  peasants  in  the  zone  of  military  operations.  Pub- 
lished in  "The  New  Russia,"  Vol.  I,  No.  7,  8  and  9.  London,  1920. 


170    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

in  their  honor  in  the  village  belfries.  However,  all  this 
did  not  last  long. 

The  "White  Army"  was  no  longer  what  it  had  been 
at  the  time  of  the  "icy  campaign"  of  February,  1918. 
Most  of  the  young  enthusiasts  of  the  first  hour  had 
sacrificed  their  lives  in  the  incessant  battles.  The  new- 
comers who  joined  the  army  at  the  tune  of  its  growing 
success  were  often  moved  by  less  idealistic  considera- 
tions. They  had  no  scruples  against  making  up  for 
their  mockingly  low  salaries  by  speculating  with  army 
supplies  or  even  by  looting  the  population.  Plunder, 
not  only  by  individuals,  but  by  entire  units,  became 
almost  a  profession.  Hundreds  of  railway  cars  were 
packed  with  spoils  which  impeded  the  regiments  in 
their  movements  and  finally  caused  them  to  look  upon 
retreat  as  a  means  for  transferring  their  looted  goods 
to  the  rear.  The  Cossacks,  who  formed  the  majority  of 
the  army,  were  especially  known  for  that.  Bribery, 
drunken  orgies,  and  every  kind  of  violence  became  cus- 
tomary, especially  in  the  large  cities  and  among  the 
chief  commanders.  The  "White  Army"  gave  no  quarter 
to  the  "Red"  officers  and  very  soon  it  was  noticed  that 
the  "Red"  command  had  become  by  far  more  efficient 
than  it  had  been  before.  The  people  also  changed  their 
mind,  and  several  months  after  the  triumphal  recep- 
tions no  "White"  officer  could  sever  himself  from  his 
detachment,  even  for  a  short  time,  without  the  risk  of 
being  tracked  and  assassinated  by  the  inhabitants. 

The  disaffection  towards  the  officers  and  soldiers  was 
extended  to  the  civil  administrators,  who  followed  the 
army.  The  population  often  learned,  first  with  aston- 
ishment and  then  with  indignation,  the  names  of  those 
officials,  who  were  those  known  to  them  from  pre- 
revolutionary  times  as  the  worst  type  of  local  satraps. 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  171 

They  had  only  increased  now  the  amount  of  their 
bribes  and  had  changed  the  methods  of  collecting  them. 
That  was,  indeed,  a  very  telling  symptom  of  the  restora- 
tion of  the  old  regime.  After  a  short  while  the  popula- 
tion forgot  the  horrors  of  Bolshevism  and  began  to  say, 
"This  is  worse  than  the  Bolsheviks." 

But  this  is  not  all.  Former  landowners  were  also 
coming  back  with  the  army.  Each  one  endeavored 
to  return  to  his  own  former  estate,  which  had  been 
taken  by  the  peasants.  They  were  escorted  by  a  spe- 
cial militia  called  the  "State  Guard."  If  the  landlord 
was  a  kindly  man  he  was  content  with  coming  to  an 
amicable  arrangement  with  the  peasants,  which  the 
latter  sometimes  quite  willingly  accepted.  Occasion- 
ally, the  landlord  was  intent  on  revenge  for  the  mis- 
treatment or  murder  of  some  members  of  his  family  by 
the  peasants.  His  return  was  then  coupled  with  re- 
lentless reprisals,  which  naturally  were  bound  to  lead 
to  further  retribution  on  the  part  of  the  peasants.  Such 
happenings,  of  course,  were  much  more  apt  to  impress 
the  masses  than  sophisticated  schemes  and  prospects 
for  some  future  solution  of  the  agrarian  question.  Un- 
fortunately, the  landlord  was  permitted,  according  to 
these  schemes,  to  collect  one-fifth  of  the  crops  from  the 
peasants.  This  was  enough  for  the  peasant  to  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  estates  of  the  nobles  would 
be  taken  from  him  by  the  new  power.  It  was  a  much 
more  serious  menace  than  the  ineffective  scheme  of 
"socialization"  of  the  land,  according  to  the  communist 
program. 

The  disappointment  was  universal,  and  a  new  sort  of 
peasant  movement  appeared:  the  so-called  "Green" 
armies.  The  "Greens"  declared  themselves  neutral  be- 
tween the  "Reds"  and  the  "Whites."  They  were  the 


172    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

"Greens"  because  they  wandered  about  in  the  green 
forests.  The  original  idea  was  to  stop  the  civil  war  by 
armed  resistance  and  to  preserve  the  village  from  the 
lootings  of  both  the  "Reds"  and  the  "Whites."  Gradu- 
ally, many  of  the  "Greens"  became  actual  bandits,  a 
new  scourge  for  the  village.  But  the  peasants  still  pre- 
ferred them  to  both  the  Reds  and  the  Whites.  The 
"Green"  movement  began  in  the  Caucasus,  but  it  soon 
spread  to  Denikin's  rear,  hi  the  Ukraine,  and  one  of  its 
leaders,  the  notorious  Makhno,  for  a  time  threatened 
to  raid  Rostov. 

The  intellectuals,  moderate  socialists,  cooperators,— 
all  were  mercilessly  confounded  by  the  "Whites"  with 
the  Bolsheviks.  Everything  which  went  beyond  the 
incomplete  spectrum  of  extremely  tame  political  group- 
ings permitted  to  exist  openly  at  the  seats  of  the  "White 
armies,"  was  considered  by  the  "Whites"  to  be  pro-Bol- 
shevist. The  Crimean  Government,  composed  of 
"Cadets,"  who  wished  to  remain  democratic,  became 
suspected  of  extremism.  The  Zemstvos  and  the  Mu- 
nicipalities were  reflected  on  the  basis  of  a  revised  elec- 
toral law,  and,  as  the  socialist  parties  in  most  places 
abstained  from  electioneering,  conservative  elements 
took  the  place  of  the  former  radical  majority.  These 
and  similar  methods  served  to  alienate  the  sympathy 
of  the  popular  masses  from  Denikin's  Government. 

All  these  drawbacks  and  shortcomings  explain  why 
Denikin's  armies  were  becoming  steadily  weaker  as  they 
were  coming  nearer  to  Moscow.  There  were,  of  course, 
strategic  reasons  which  partly  account  for  the  failure. 
Under  the  normal  conditions  of  a  regular  war  such  a 
speedy  advance  without  reserves  and  without  securing 
the  rear  would  hardly  be  considered  wise.  But  this 
was  a  civil  war,  and  in  a  civil  war  everything  depends 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  173 

on  the  state  of  mind  of  the  population  living  under  the 
competing  systems  of  government.  We  have  seen  how 
favorable  that  state  of  mind  was  for  the  liberators  and 
how  much  it  changed  in  the  process  of  liberation  owing 
to  the  utterly  bad  tactics  of  the  "White"  armies.  The 
point  is  that  the  bad  tactics  was  not  at  all  incidental. 
It  was  so  closely  connected  with  the  political  attitude 
of  the  liberators  and  with  the  social  composition  of  the 
leading  elements,  that  no  individual  will  could  bring 
about  any  substantial  change  in  the  situation.  Deni- 
kin's  failure,  as  I  have  said,  was  not  his  own.  It  was 
the  crucial  test  for  such  remainders  of  the  old  Russia  as 
had  gathered  round  his  banners:  people  for  whom  Deni- 
kin  himself  was  almost  a  revolutionary.  For  any  clear- 
thinking  political  observer  that  last  experiment  defi- 
nitely proved  that  this  method  of  liberating  Russia 
from  the  Bolsheviks  must  never  again  be  resorted  to. 
It  was  so  self-evident,  indeed,  that  Denikin  himself, 
at  the  last  hour,  tried  to  change  his  tactics  completely. 
In  about  three  months  (October-December,  1919)  all 
the  territory  between  Orel  and  the  Don  River  was  lost. 
On  Christmas  Novocherkassk  was  taken  by  the  Bol- 
sheviks ;  on  the  next  day,  December  26,  Rostov  shared 
its  fate.  Out  of  the  200,000  fighting  at  the  front  before 
October,1  only  10,00  of  the  Volunteer  Army,  40,000  of 
the  Don  Army  and  6,000-7,000  of  the  Caucasian  Army 
(Kubans)  remained.  Denikin  had  to  go  back  to 
Ekaterinodar  not  as  a  conqueror,  but  almost  as  a  sup- 
plicant. He  agreed  to  limit  his  power  by  creating  a 
"South-Russian"  Government,  and  he  made  every  con- 
cession desired  by  the  Kuban  Cossack  Assembly.  It 
was  too  late  and  neither  side  believed  the  other.  The 

1  There    were    700,000   "eaters"    in   the    army,   but    only    200,000 
"fighters"  at  the  front. 


174    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

only  result  of  Denikin's  concessions  to  the  Cossacks 
was  that  the  reactionary  officers  definitely  decided  to 
hand  over  the  power  to  Gen.  Wrangel.  Wrangel's 
scheme  was  to  forsake  the  Cossacks  entirely  and  to  re- 
treat to  the  Southwest,  to  the  Crimea  and  to  Odessa, 
where  he  planned  to  arm  German  colonists.  Denikin 
retreated  to  the, South,  to  Ekaterinodar  and  Novoros- 
siisk.  He  profited  by  the  delay  of  two  months  (No- 
vorossiisk  was  evacuated  on  March  12-14)  in  order  to 
prepare  a  new  base  for  the  retreating  army  in  the 
Crimea.  Neither  he  nor  his  new  Government  had  any 
power  left.  Denikin  finally  decided  to  resign.  In  com- 
pliance with  the  general  desire  of  the  army,  he  nomi- 
nated Gen.  Wrangel  his  successor  and  an  hour  later  left 
for  London  (March  22). 

At  the  same  time  with  Kolchak's  and  Denikin's  at- 
tempts to  liberate  Russia  a  third  attempt  was  liqui- 
dated, that  of  General  Yudenich.  Aided  by  the  British 
and,  through  their  mediation,  by  the  Esthonians,  Gen- 
eral Yudenich  had  prepared  for  a  military  raid  on 
Petrograd,  with  an  army  which  was  one-tenth  the  size 
of  Denikin's  army  (20,000  "fighters,"  out  of  the  70,- 
000  "eaters").  In  a  few  days,  however,  Yudenich 's 
offensive,  which  was  very  clumsily  executed,  was 
checked  by  Trotsky  (October  10-25,  1919).  The 
whole  episode  had  no  importance  in  the  general 
scheme  of  the  anti-Bolshevist  struggle,  Yudenich's 
raid  could  only  have  succeeded  if  Denikin  had 
come  from  Orel  to  Moscow  and  Kolchak  from  the 
Urals  to  the  Volga.  But,  here  too,  the  anti-Bolshe- 
vist military  movement  revealed  the  same  features, 
which  are  familiar  to  us,  with  the  addition  of  some 
others  peculiar  to  the  local  surroundings  in  the  Baltic 
region.  The  contrast  between  a  showy  display  of  lib- 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  175 

eralism  by  the  Government  and  the  reactionary  dis- 
position of  the  army  was  here  especially  emphasized, 
because  the  Government,  the  "Northwestern,"  had  been 
specially  created  at  the  British  order,  while  the  great 
part  of  the  army  had  been  drilled  by  the  Germans.  On 
August  11,  1919,  General  March  had  actually  ordered 
a  group  of  Russian  politicians  in  Reval  to  build,  in 
forty  minutes,  a  "democratic"  Government  and  to  im- 
mediately recognize  the  independence  of  Esthonia  and 
to  summon  at  once  a  sort  of  National  Assembly  at 
Pskov  or  at  Dorpat-Yuryev.  The  dependence  of  Gen- 
eral Yudenich  upon  that  Government  was  purely  fic- 
titious. As  soon  as  he  got  one  million  pounds  sterling 
from  Kolchak  he  felt  free  to  act  as  he  liked,  and  he 
decided  to  formally  dissolve  his  "democratic"  Govern- 
ment as  soon  as  he  should  take  Petrograd.  Some 
officers  connected  with  the  former  secret  police  pre- 
pared a  list  of  people  to  be  murdered  in  Petrograd,  at 
the  moment  of  its  occupation.  Two  Russian  detach- 
ments, organized  by  German  reactionary  generals,  were 
expected  to  take  part  in  the  operations  of  the  "North- 
western Army":  Prince  Lieven's  division  and  General 
Bermont-Avalov's  corps.  Both  were  controlled  by  Gen. 
Ludendorff's  subordinates,  Gen.  von  der  Goltz  and  Gen. 
Bischoff.  At  the  decisive  moment  Gen.  Bermont's 
corps,  instead  of  helping  Yudenich,  occupied  Riga,  the 
seat  of  the  Latvian  Government  (October  9),  which  at 
once  made  the  Esthonians  change  their  attitude.  It 
also  caused  the  British  fleet  to  change  its  plan,  and,  in- 
stead of  bombarding  Kronstadt,  rapidly  to  steam  off 
and  to  bombard  Riga.  The  lack  of  decision  and  of 
unity  of  command,  and  the  disappointment  of  the  popu- 
lation did  the  rest.  Yudenich  fled  away,  the  "North- 
western" Government  evaporated,  the  retreating  sol- 


176    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

diers  and  officers  were  disarmed  by  the  Esthonians, 
and  the  remaining  funds  mysteriously  disappeared. 
The  enthusiasm  with  which  the  Petrograd  working- 
men  seemed  to  be  inspired  in  warding  off  Yudenich's 
attack  might  have  served  as  a  new  warning  to  the  peo- 
ple who  asserted  that  the  task  of  liberation  was  easy 
and  that  it  could  be  solved  by  mere  military  operations 
from  outside.  It  was  again  the  "spirit"  of  «the  popula- 
tion that  decided. 

The  natural  end  of  the  armed  "White"  movement 
seemed  to  come  with  the  downfall  of  the  three  centers 
of  it  in  Siberia,  Southern  Russia  and  in  the  North- 
western border  States  of  Finland,  Esthonia  and  Latvia. 
Under  dissimilar  local  surroundings  the  basic  causes  of 
failure,  as  we  have  seen,  were  always  the  same,  that  is, 
inherent  in  the  movement  itself.  The  chief  drawback 
was  that  it  was  the  formerly  privileged  groups  of  the 
population,  disinherited  by  the  Revolution,  which  took 
the  lead  and  were  eager  to  stay  at  the  helm,  to  the 
exclusion  of  the  rest  of  the  population  and  of  all  the 
really  democratic  political  parties.  They  could  steer 
only  into  the  old  channel  because  they  knew  of  no 
other.  But,  the  trend  of  actual  life  could  not  be  di- 
verted to  that  channel  of  old  Russia. 

However,  the  end  had  not  yet  come.  The  armed 
struggle  continued  for  fully  eight  months  more  (March 
22-November  14,  1920),  under  the  leadership  of  Gen- 
eral Wrangel.  On  March  20  the  British  Admiral  de 
Robeck  had  proposed  to  Denikin  that  he  stop  the  civil 
war  and  accept  Britain's  mediation,  under  the  threat 
that  all  further  aid  would  be  withdrawn.  On  August 
12  the  French  Government  decided  to  recognize 
Wrangel's  government  in  the  Crimea  as  the  de  facto 
government  of  Southern  Russia,  "after  having  taken 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  177 

into  consideration  the  military  successes  and  growing 
strength  of  Wrangel's  government  as  well  as  his  assur- 
ances as  to  the  democratic  character  of  his  internal 
politics."  Later  on  in  the  year,  on  October  20,  when 
the  necessity  of  diverting  the  Bolshevist  army  from  the 
Polish  front  to  Wrangel's  front  had  passed,  the  French 
Government  became  less  credulous  as  to  Wrangel's  as- 
surances, and  the  French  High  Commissioner  at  Wran- 
gel's headquarters,  Count  de  Martel,  warned  him  about 
the  incongruity  of  his  sayings  and  doings  and  insisted 
on  necessary  changes  of  policy.  These  three  moments 
determine  the  curve  of  Wrangel's  rise  and  fall  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Allied  diplomacy. 

Of  all  the  prominent  leaders  of  the  "White"  armies 
Wrangel  was  the  only  one  who  was  ambitious  and  had 
a  personal  taste  for  power.  He  was  also  clever  enough 
to  see  the  obstacles  in  the  way  to  power.  He  had  no 
desire  to  repeat  Denikin's  mistakes  and  was  quite  de- 
cided about  taking  the  right  path,  without  discriminat- 
ing between  the  political  parties  or  programs.  In  the 
first  place,  he  knew  too  well  that  no  success  was  possible 
as  long  as  the  army  was  demoralized.  That  was  his 
chief  point  against  Denikin  and  many  well-meaning 
people  who  supported  his  claim  to  Denikin's  place  were 
moved  by  the  consideration  that  Wrangel  was  the  only 
man  who  could  reestablish  discipline  in  the  army.  And 
indeed,  in  a  few  weeks  Wrangel  succeeded  in  raising  the 
spirit  of  the  army  and  in  restoring  its  confidence.  How- 
ever, the  secret  of  his  success  was  soon  brought  out  in 
strong  relief.  It  was  the  spirit  of  caste  with  which 
the  army  was  now  imbued,  and  the  solidarity  of  crime 
and  lawlessness  had  taken  the  place  of  military  disci- 
pline. The  prevailing  influence  rested  in  a  group  of 
young  officers,  to  whom  everything  was  permitted. 


178     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

They  tolerated  only  such  superiors  as  shut  their  eyes 
to  their  debauched  conduct  and  simply  refused  to  rec- 
ognize such  nominations  as  did  not  please  them.  A 
civilian  was  to  them  a  nonentity.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
no  civil  administration  existed.  The  only  courts  of 
justice  that  still  existed,  the  military  courts,  were  com- 
pletely disregarded  if  the  culprit  belonged  to  the  privi- 
leged caste,  and  they  were  forced  to  sanction  hangings 
and  shootings,  if  the  privileged  ones  condescended  to 
put  their  victims  before  the  tribunals.  It  was  only 
natural  that  when  this  army  went  on  an  offensive,  loot- 
ing and  robbing  of  the  population  at  once  became  uni- 
versal. A  regiment  on  the  march  looked,  according  to 
a  witness,  something  like  a  "gypsies'  camp."  The 
whole  detachment  consisted  of  200  to  300  armed  men — 
or  500  to  600  at  the  utmost.  Behind  them  for  long 
miles  there  followed  a  train  of  wagons  loaded  with  fur- 
niture, chickens,  porkers  and — a  great  many  women. 
The  population  soon  began  to  ignore  the  mobiliza- 
tions: certain  cantons  of  the  Malitopol  district,  e.g., 
instead  of  1,000  gave  six  to  ten  men.  Gen.  Wrangel 
ordered  that  property  of  the  relatives  of  the  deserters 
be  confiscated,  and  the  "punitive  expeditions"  were 
thus  practically  free  to  loot  the  whole  population. 

Now,  there  was  another  idea  which  had  become 
axiomatic:  the  land  was  to  be  left  with  the  peasants, 
in  order  not  to  repeat  the  mistake  of  Denikin's  agrarian 
legislation.  Gen  Wrangel  was  ready  to  .straighten  it 
out.  But,  here  again,  he  was  unable  to  carry  out  a 
really  democratic  solution.  His  idea  of  democracy, — 
and  he  was  supported  in  it  by  the  former  Tsarist  Min- 
ister, Krivoshayin, — was  that  of  old  Russia.  The  peas- 
ants, according  to  this  idea,  want  the  Tsar,  the  supreme 
"Master-Owner"  (the  Russian  word  "Khozyain"  im- 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  179 

plies  both  meanings),  and  do  not  need  the  "Cadets"  or 
intellectuals.  If  left  alone,  face  to  face  with  the 
squires,  they  will  easily  agree  and  work  hand  in  glove, 
from  their  villages  and  cantons  upwards  to  the  Con- 
stituent Assembly.  This  was  again  that  "betting  on 
the  grey  (the  peasant)"  which  falsified  the  agrarian 
and  the  electoral  reforms  of  the  time  of  the  Dumas. 
According  to  Gen.  Wrangel,  Gen.  Denikin's  mistake 
had  been  his  reliance  on  the  "Cadet"  agrarian  pro- 
gram. The  "Cadets"  and  the  "National  Center"— 
even  the  tame  "Cadets"  of  Denikin's  period — were  now 
to  be  ignored.  Krivoshayin's  influence  was  paramount. 

Consequently,  the  agrarian  regulations  of  May  25, 
1920,  were  full  of  loopholes  and  tricks  to  restore  what- 
ever possible  from  the  landed  estates  of  the  gentry. 
The  size  of  plots,  the  way  of  remunerating  the  former 
owners  was  left  to  the  "Land  Councils"  in  the  town- 
ships, and  the  influence  of  the  squires  on  the  decisions 
of  these  "Land  Councils"  can  be  measured  by  the  great 
size  of  the  estates  restored  to  the  former  possessors. 
Under  the  peculiar  conditions  of  land  ownership  in  the 
Crimea,  the  reform  did  not  provoke  open  resistance. 
But  outside  of  the  Crimea  word  soon  spread  that  Gen- 
eral Wrangel  was  an  enemy  of  the  peasants,  and  the 
name  "Krivoshayin"  was  enough  to  persuade  them  that 
this  was  true.  The  peasants  boycotted  Wrangel's 
agrarian  regulations  and  waited  for  some  new  power 
to  come  to  their  rescue. 

A  third  point  whereat  Wrangel  earnestly  wished  to 
improve  upon  Denikin  was  the  question  of  autonomy 
or  federation.  The  very  use  of  the  word  "federation" 
had  been  strictly  forbidden  under  Denikin.  It  was  now 
made  use  of  by  Wrangel's  advisers.  But,  again,  the 
choice  of  advisers  and  executors  was  dictated  by  Wran- 


180    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

gel's  political  connections.  To  improve  the  relations 
with  the  nationalities  and  with  the  Cossack  territories 
a  man  was  chosen  who  was  as  much  suspected  of  favor- 
ing centralism,  as  Krivoshayin  was  of  landlordism.  It 
was  Mr.  P.  B.  Struve,  the  well-known  protagonist  of 
Russian — and  even  of  "Great-Russian"  nationalism.  So 
far  as  the  Cossacks  were  concerned,  the  result  was  the 
sham  agreement  with  the  "State  formations  of  the  Don, 
Kuban,  Terek  and  Astrakhan  territories"  of  August  4, 
1920,  which  the  atamans  were  ordered  to  sign  hi 
twenty-four  hours,  in  order  to  "demonstrate  their  union 
with  Wrangel  before  Europe."  The  document  met  with 
protests  outside  the  Crimea  as  it  was  by  far  worse 
than  Denikin's  draft-constitution  which  had  been  re- 
jected by  the  Cossacks.  Some  amendments  were  intro- 
duced, but  they  remained  on  paper.  An  agreement 
with  the  Ukraine  was  as  essential  for  Wrangel's  mili- 
tary schemes  as  that  with  the  Cossacks.  On  September 
23  Gen.  Wrangel  consented  to  receive  a  delegation 
from  one  of  the  moderate  Ukrainian  federalist  groups 
("the  Ukrainian  National  Committee  in  Paris").  The 
official  statement  sent  out  by  Mr.  Struve  after  that  in- 
terview was  as  follows:  "Prompted  by  the  desire  to 
unite  all  the  anti-Bolshevik  forces,  Gen.  Wrangel  is 
ready  to  support  the  development  of  national  demo- 
cratic forces  on  the  same  lines  as  proclaimed  by  the 
agreement  with  the  Cossack  regions.  Gen.  Wrangel 
does  not  admit  the  possibility  of  allying  himself  with 
any  separatist  movement."  Even  for  the  "federalists" 
such  a  statement  was  hardly  satisfactory.  Mr.  Struve's 
idea  was  to  negotiate  with  the  military  units  fighting 
against  the  Bolsheviks,  and  to  avoid  rapprochement 
with  the  political  organizations  that  backed  them.  But 
under  the  conditions  obtaining  no  such  negotiations — 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  181 

with  Pavlenko,  to  the  exclusion  of  Petlura,  the  sepa- 
ratist; or  with  Balakhovich  and  Permikin,  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  Savinkov,  the  "vassal"  of  the  Poles — could 
fructify.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  nothing  came  of  the 
negotiations. 

A  formula  was  found  by  the  partisans  of  WrangeFs 
policy  which  very  well  emphasizes  its  political  mean- 
ing. It  was  the  "left  (i.e.,  liberal)  policy  carried  out 
by  the  right  (e.g.,  conservative)  hands."  We  know  of 
examples  of  a  "right"  policy  carried  out  successfully 
by  the  "left"  hands;  such  was,  e.g.,  the  policy  of  Lloyd 
George  or  Briand.  We  have  also  precedents  of  con- 
servative cabinets  carrying  out  liberal  programs  in 
earnest,  to  take  the  wind  from  the  sails  of  their  politi- 
cal opponents.  Gen.  WrangeFs  policy  was  unlike 
either.  It  was  a  clumsy  attempt  to  cheat  the  world 
with  liberal  catchwords  for  the  benefit  of  a  small  group 
who  were  over-confident  that  they  alone  knew  the  real 
Russia,  the  Russia  of  illiterate  peasants  ruled  by  be- 
nevolent squires,  with  methods  of  patriarchal  compul- 
sion. 

However,  the  very  basis  of  WrangeFs  power  was  too 
shaky  and  uncertain,  for  this  last  variation  of  the 
"White"  policy  to  materialize.  A  few  days  before  his 
nomination  to  Denikin's  post  Gen.  Wrangel  had  told 
his  friends  that  the  situation  was  desperate.  He  did 
not  wish  to  negotiate  with  the  Bolsheviks,  as  had  been 
proposed  by  the  British,  but  he  at  once  started  on  prep- 
arations for  the  evacuation  of  the  Crimea.  That  idea 
of  an  evacuation  bound  to  come,  sooner  or  later,  stuck 
at  the  back  of  his  head,  and  it  explains  many  things  in 
his  conduct,  as  a  military  leader.  His  first  offensive 
move  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  Crimea 
was  explained  to  the  world  as  caused  by  the  necessity 


182     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

to  secure  food  from  a  grain  producing  region.    But  his 
further  schemes  of  attack  were  all  risky  and  reckless, 
while    the    only    defensive    scheme, — fortifying    the 
Crimean  Isthmus,  which  might  have  made  his  last 
refuge  an  impregnable  fortress, — was  utterly  neglected. 
In  July  and  in  August  Gen.  Wrangel  tried  to  start  an 
uprising  of  the  Don  Cossacks  and  at  the  same  time  to 
take  possession  of  the  mouth  of  the  Dnieper.    The  only 
result  was — enormous  losses  of  men  and  the  seizure  by 
the  Reds  of  a  very  important  passage  across  the  Dnie- 
per at  Kahovka.    The  second  scheme  was  to  transfer 
the  military  base  back  to  the  Caucasus  and  to  prepare 
for  it  by  an  uprising  in  the  Kuban  Valley.    A  landing 
took  place  on  August  13  and  a  serious  uprising  began 
in  the  neighboring  "stanitsas."     But  as  soon  as  the 
Cossacks  saw  the  high-handed  way  in  which  Wrangel's 
generals  were  treating  them,  the  movement  fell  flat  at 
once  and  the  population  saved  themselves,  their  cattle, 
their  horses,  their  carriages,  their  foodstuffs  by  hiding 
from  mobilization  and  requisition.     It  was  the  same 
passive  resistance  as  shown  by  the  population  of  the 
Taurida  Province  (the  Crimea  and  neighboring  dis- 
tricts) .    In  a  couple  of  weeks  the  operation  was  liqui- 
dated.   The  third  scheme  of  attack,  which  began  on 
September  12,  was  directed  straight  to  the  North.  The 
moment  was  favorable,  as  the  Red  Army  had  suffered 
defeats  at  the  hands  of  the  Poles.    All  the  Russian  anti- 
Bolshevist  armed  groups  on  Polish  territory  and  the 
remainders  of  the  "Northwestern"  Russian  detachments 
(see  above)  were  ready  to  recognize  Wrangel.    He  pro- 
posed, in  Paris,  a  scheme  for  a  concerted  action  with  the 
Poles  on  Kiev.     But  the  Bolsheviks  prevented  that 
action  by  proposing  peace  to  Poland,  with  territorial 
and  financial  concessions. 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  183 

It  was  in  order  to  turn  all  the  Red  forces  against 
Wrangel  that  Mr.  Joffe,  the  Bolshevist  plenipotentiary, 
capitulated  at  Riga  and  consented  to  the  annexation 
by  the  Poles  of  a  stretch  of  Russian  territory  one  hun- 
dred miles  wide,  to  the  east  of  the  so-called  Curzon 
Line,  which  later  almost  coincided  with  the  ethno- 
graphic frontier  and  had  been  proposed  by  the  League 
of  Nations  in  July- December,  1919.    On  the  occasion 
of  the  Riga  Treaty,   the  French  diplomacy  forsook 
Wrangel,  and  Mr.  Lloyd  George  in  a  speech  at  Lland- 
udno  made  one  of  his  recurrent  declarations  that  he 
wanted  peace  with  the  Bolsheviks  as  a  condition  of  gen- 
eral peace  in  Europe.    Thenceforth,  Gen.  Wrangel  was 
lost.    His  desperate  attempt  to  outflank  the  Bolsheviks 
at  Kahovka  by  acting  from  the  rear,  from  behind  the 
Dnieper  (end  of  October)  resulted  in  a  complete  rout 
of  his  troops.    A  disorderly  retreat  to  the  Crimea  be- 
gan, and  as  there  were  no  fortifications  on  the  Isthmus, 
the  Red  troops  immediately  penetrated  into  the  Cri- 
mean   peninsula.     The    second   week    of   November 
(8-14)  was  the  last  of  the  Government  of  South  Russia. 
Evacuation  was  practically  the  only  operation  success- 
fully performed  by  Wrangel,  because  it  was  the  only 
movement  well  prepared  for  in  advance.    That  is  also 
why  the  last  stage  of  defense  was  so  much  neglected 
and  the  last  bit  of  anti-Bolshevist  territory  so  easily 
left  behind. 

"We  have  no  other  territory,  except  the  Crimea," 
Gen.  Wrangel  announced  openly  on  November  10, 
1920.  "The  Government  has  no  means  to  help  the 
evacuated,  either  on  their  way  or  in  the  future.  No 
foreign  power  has  given  its  consent  to  receive  them. 
Their  fate  is  completely  unknown." 

Disregarding  that  warning,  people  fled   for  their 


184    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

lives,  panic-stricken.  Fully  135,000  went  to  Constan- 
tinople, without  food  and  drink,  in  136  packed  ships, 
where  they  were  forced  to  stay  for  weeks  before  they 
were  permitted  to  land.  Tens  of  thousands  of  others 
who  were  left  in  the  Crimea  were  shot  by  the  Bolshe- 
viks. Contagious  diseases  and  utter  misery  was  the 
lot  of  many  who  saved  themselves.  Such  as  survived 
were  morally  dead.  Dead  was  the  "White"  idea, — • 
the  "White  dream,"  as  one  of  the  "dreamers,"  Mr. 
Shulghin,  now  called  it.  But  Mr.  Shulghin  was  right 
when  he  added  that  it  was  not  in  Constantinople  that 
the  "White  dream"  was  dispelled.  It  died  when  the 
lower  instincts  of  looting  and  enriching  oneself  at  the 
expense  of  the  population,  when  drunken  orgies  alter- 
nating with  the  cruelties  of  the  "WTiite  terror"  took  the 
place  of  heroism  and  of  the  patriotic  enthusiasm  of  the 
first  hour.  It  was  then  that  the  "WTiite"  idea  was 
definitely  rejected  by  the  masses  and  the  military  men 
became  a  caste,  isolated  in  their  own  country  and  hav- 
ing no  choice  but  to  flee  and  to  emigrate.  They  re- 
mained isolated  even  among  the  flood  of  refugees,  and, 
as  they  still  stuck  to  their  privileges  in  the  midst  of 
the  general  suffering,  the  rank  and  file  refugees  were 
heard  to  say:  "Whatever  you  think  of  the  Bolsheviks, 
you  must  agree  that  they  have  rendered  one  great 
service  to  the  Russian  people:  they  have  thrown  out 
of  Russia  all  those  dregs,  all  that  rot."  1 

The  truth  is  that  the  appearance  of  Gen.  WrangePs 
army  abroad  (he  counted  them  as  70,000  out 
of  135,000  refugees)  finally  split  the  Russian  emi- 
grants into  two  camps.  The  democratic  groups  de- 
fended the  view  that  the  whole  system  of  struggle 
against  the  Bolsheviks  had  to  be  changed  and  the 

*G.  Rakovski,  "The  End  of  the  Whites"  (in  Russian)  Prague,  1921. 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  185 

"White  movement"  definitely  discontinued.  They 
held  that  the  last  traces  of  Wrangel's  power  had  to  be 
abolished,  his  army  demobilized  and  turned  into  regu- 
lar refugees  who  would  be  free  to  earn  their  living. 
There  was  a  strong  movement  within  Wrangel's  army 
itself  to  break  free  from  the  fetters  of  Wrangel's  disci- 
pline and  to  go.  But  it  met  with  the  deliberate  resolve 
on  the  part  of  Wrangel's  generals  to  keep  the  men  to- 
gether by  methods  of  violence.  The  White  terror  of 
a  Kutepov  or  of  a  Turkul  was  now  applied  to  the 
camps  at  Gallipoli,  Lemnos,  etc.,  where  the  disarmed 
officers  and  soldiers  were  kept  like  prisoners.  The  idea 
was  that  the  "living  force"  must  be  preserved  up  to  the 
moment  when  it  would  be  needed  for  some  new  armed 
struggle  against  the  Reds.  Gen.  Wrangel  had  decided 
to  preserve  his  power  until  that  time,  and  he  even 
formed  (April  5, 1921)  a  kind  of  government,  the  "Rus- 
sian Council."  In  vain  did  France  inform  him  as  early 
as  November  30,  1920,  that  she  considered  his  gov- 
ernment as  non-existent  and  that  his  army,  according 
to  international  law,  must  be  disarmed  and  disbanded. 
Gen.  Wrangel  still  clung  to  the  phantom  and  stubbornly 
continued  his  game,  appealing  to  Russian  patriotism 
and  treating  as  traitors  every  one  who  did  not  agree 
with  him.  France  repeatedly  warned  him  that  some 
day  the  feeding  of  the  emigres  must  be  discontinued. 
From  January,  1921,  the  French  Government  had  to 
prolong  the  rationing  of  Wrangel's  camps  to  February, 
from  February  to  April,  from  April  to  May.  They 
even  tried  to  enforce  the  return  of  Wrangel's  Cossacks 
to  Soviet  Russia.  (Some  11,000  actually  returned.) 
Finally  it  was  decided  to  transfer  the  remainder  of  the 
troops,  with  other  refugees,  to  Serbia  and  Bulgaria.  In 
the  autumn,  1921,  that  process  was  consummated  and 


186    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Wrangel  with  his  generals  had  to  leave  Constanti- 
nople. 

Unfortunately,  even  this  may  not  yet  be  the  end  of 
Gen.  Wrangel's  game.  We  have  seen  how,  gradually, 
a  selection  of  the  most  reactionary  elements  took  place, 
and  these  elements  have  remained  faithful  to  Wrangel. 
This  was  a  natural  starting  point  for  a  systematic  and 
well-organized  political  propaganda,  hi  order  to  make 
of  the  rest  of  Wrangel's  forces  a  ready  weapon  for  a 
monarchist  restoration  hi  Russia.  In  Bulgaria,  and 
especially  in  Serbia,  the  work  of  sustaining  the  refugees 
is  kept  well  hi  the  hands  of  Wrangel's  commanders  and 
other  reactionary  agents,  who  make  use  of  their  power 
for  enlisting  the  refugees  in  monarchist  and  reactionary 
organizations.  Their  political  activity  is  supported  by 
reactionary  centers  in  Budapest,  Munich  and  Berlin. 
The  branches  of  the  monarchist  organizations  are 
widely  spread  in  Europe  (Paris,  Prague)  and 
even  hi  this'country.1  The  former  "Germanophilism" 
of  Wrangel  and  of  the  Russian  reactionary  elements 
seems  to  have  helped  them  in  binding  connections  with 
the  German  monarchists.  I  have  already  mentioned 
that  since  1918  attempts  were  made  by  German  mili- 
tarist groups  to  organize  monarchist  armies  in  Russia, 
and  we  noted  the  activities  of  some  of  these  armies  on 
the  Northwestern  frontiers.  Since  Yudenich's  defeat 


*0n  my  landing  in  New  York,  in  October,  1921,  I  was  kindly 
favored  with  a  leaflet  entitled:  "Miliukoff — the  Traitor.  His  Po- 
litical Record"  New  York  City,  October,  1921,  signed  by  the  ''Rus- 
sian National  Society,"  "Association  Unity  of  Russia,"  ''Union  of 
Russian  Peasants  in  America  and  Canada,"  "Union  of  Russian  Mon- 
archists in  America"  and  "Russian  Brotherhood  in  Galicia."  I  was 
told  that  there  are  few  members  in  these  "Unions"  and  always  the 
same.  The  leadership  seems  to  belong  to  Mr.  Brasol.  Archbishop 
Platon  addressed  a  monarchist  petition  to  President  Harding  but 
did  not  seem  to  receive  a  satisfactory  reply. 


ANTI-BOLSHEVIST  RUSSIA  187 

certain  elements  of  these  armed  detachments  are  still 
in  existence  and  are  controlled  from  Berlin. 

However,  if  that  were  all  there  is  to  anti-Bolshevist 
Russia,  the  Bolsheviks  might  feel  on  sure  gound.  The 
more  the  anti-Bolshevist  movement  was  becoming  re- 
actionary and  monarchist,  the  more  it  had  to  rely  on 
foreign  help  and  intervention,  and,  as  a  consequence, 
the  more  it  helped  the  Bolsheviks.  A  feeling  of  patriot- 
ism evolved  within  Russia  and  especially  in  the  ranks 
of  the  Red  army,  which  was  used  adroitly  by  the  Bol- 
shevist power  to  rest  their  authority  on  a  moral  basis. 
If  the  reactionary  emigrants  were  to  take  the  place  of 
the  reactionary  "White"  armies,  the  ties  would  be  en- 
tirely broken  between  emigration  and  Russia. 

Fortunately,  this  is  not  the  case.  In  the  measure  as 
reaction  was  unmasking  itself,  the  liberal  elements 
among  the  emigrants  had  to  take  sides.  A  nucleus  of 
democratic  groups  was  formed  as  early  as  January, 
1921,  at  a  conference  of  the  Members  of  the  All-Rus- 
sian Constituent  Assembly,  which  met  at  Paris.  Ele- 
ments of  former  political  parties  are  regrouping  them- 
selves around  that  nucleus.  Their  political  faith  is: 
Democracy  and  a  federated  Republic  in  a  Russia  that 
has  grown  politically  conscious  through  the  process  of 
its  revolution.  It  is  this  program,  not  that  of  reac- 
tion and  monarchist  restoration,  which  is  hailed  by  the 
anti-Bolshevist  elements  in  Russia  itself.  The  issue 
which  is  now  being  fought  out  is  not  between  Bol- 
shevism and  reaction.  It  is  between  Bolshevism  and 
democracy.  To  keep  that  issue  clear  is  the  task  of 
Russian  liberalism  abroad. 


CHAPTER  VH. 

THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM. 

We  have  seen  the  origin  of  Bolshevism  and  we  now 
know  its  aims,  both  in  internal  and  in  external  policy. 
We  know  that  in  their  internal  policy  the  Bolsheviks 
never  intended  to  introduce  real  communism  in  Russia 
and  were  satisfied  with  "State  Capitalism,"  for  which 
they  are  even  ready  to  substitute  "State  Control,"  if 
only  they  can  get  a  new  lease  of  life  at  the  price  of 
this  concession.  We  also  know  that  their  chief  interest 
has  been  centered  in  their  foreign  policy,  as  their  only 
aim  has  always  been  to  bring  about  a  world  revolution. 

What  is  the  result  of  the  long  experiment  which  has 
lasted  for  four  full  years?  The  Utopian  dreams  have 
gradually  receded  to  the  background,  while  realistic 
tactics  has  been  becoming  an  aim  for  and  in  itself.  The 
achievement  of  the  World  Revolution  has  had  to  be 
postponed.  Now  the  Bolsheviks  are  reaching  the  point 
when — in  one  way  or  another — they  will  be  forced 
formally  to  repudiate  their  experiment  in  "incomplete" 
communism.  The  "dictatorship  of  the  proletariat" 
will  be  the  last  thing  they  will  concede,  and  this  is 
practically  the  only  thing  they  really  achieved — if  you 
pass  over  "the  proletariat"  part  of  it  and  explain  the 
"dictatorship"  as  a  survival  of  old  autocratic  methods, 
in  their  crudest  medieval  form,  of  a  rule  by  direct  vio- 
lence. 

188 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        189 

Of  course,  the  Bolsheviks  themselves  explain  their 
utter  failure  by  that  unforeseen  circumstance  that  the 
world  proletariat  was  too  slow  to  follow  their  example. 
No  communist  State,  they  argue,  can  exist  in  the  midst 
of  the  capitalist  States.  With  the  same  reason  some 
sectarians  finally  admitted  that  no  "sons  of  God"  can 
carry  on  their  paradisic  existence  among  the  "sons  of 
evil."  The  argument  is  poor  because  it  begs  the  ques- 
tion, whether  sons  of  God  can  exist  at  all  in  this  world 
of  sin. 

The  real  explanation  of  the  Bolshevist  failure  is,  of 
course,  much  simpler  than  that.  No  human  society 
that  consumes  without  producing  can  exist.  Bol- 
shevism has  only  succeeded  in  building  a  huge  machine 
of  bureaucracy  and  warfare  while  at  the  same  time  it 
has  destroyed  all  incentive  for  industry  and  trade  and 
has  had  to  live  on  the  natural  produce  of  an  equally 
ruined  agriculture.  History  knows  one  single  instance 
of  a  similar  experiment.  It  was  the  late  Roman  Em- 
pire where  "the  number  of  such  as  spend  finally  be- 
came larger  than  the  number  of  such  as  produce"  and 
which  could  only  continue  its  frail  existence  on  the  ob- 
ligatory work  of  a  conquered  people.  This  has  now 
become  the  fate  of  the  "Republic  of  workmen  and 
peasants."  Of  course,  the  result  was  bound  to  be  the 
same:  a  gradual  decay  of  highly  developed  forms  of 
State  and  a  return  to  the  medieval  or  even  to  the  tribal 
stage  of  life.  Of  course,  there  is  another  side  to  this 
process :  that  of  a  new  growth,  and  we  shall  come  back 
to  it.  But  so  far  as  the  Bolshevist  experiment  is  con- 
cerned, we  now  must  analyze  its  process  of  degenera- 
tion and  disintegration,  in  order  to  understand  what 
must  be  its  natural  end. 

The  first  sign  of  decay  is  reflected  in  Russian  de- 


190    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

mography.  The  Russian  nation  belongs  to  that  group 
of  younger  nations  whose  birth  rate  has  not  yet  under- 
gone the  checking  influence  of  urban  civilization.  Rus- 
sia headed  the  world's  list  in  births  and,  unfortunately, 
also  hi  the  mortality  of  her  children.  In  the  fifteen 
years  from  the  census  of  1897  to  1912  Russia's  popula- 
tion increased  by  42.8  millions,  i.e.,  at  the  rate  of  2.8 
millions  a  year.  The  following  figures  will  show  how 
that  state  of  things  was  changed  first  by  the  war  and 
then  by  the  Bolshevist  rule: 

(Per  1000)  1900-1909        1917  1919 

Births  46.1  39.4  13.0 

Deaths   .  29.4  25.4  74.9 


+     16.7     +     14.0     —    61.9 

That  is,  instead  of  an  increase  of  1.7=1.4  per  cent,  of 
the  population,  we  have  the  distressing  fact  of  an  an- 
nual decrease  of  6  per  cent. 

A  Russian  economist,  Mr.  S.  Maslov,  who  has  just 
escaped  from  Soviet  Russia,  gives  the  following  figures 
showing  the  movement  of  the  population  in  the  twelve 
provinces  of  the  old  Russian  center,  which  has  espe- 
cially suffered  from  Bolshevism. 

Urban          Rural 

Population  Population       Total 

1916   6,779,482  18,416,496    25.195,978 

1920   3,851.487  18.375.031     22,226,518 


—  2.927,995      —41,465  —  2,969,460 
(43.2  per  cent.)  (0.2  per  cent.) 

It  is  also  interesting  to  note  the  change  in  the  com- 
position of  the  population  by  sexes,  unfavorable  to  the 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        191 

towns  and  favorable  to -the  villages  (in  the  same  twelve 
provinces) : 

Urban  Population  Rural  Population 

(Male)     (Female)  (Male)     (Female) 

1897 134.5          100 

1916 73.6  100 

1920 83.5          100  77.0  100 

The  disintegration  began  from  the  head,  the  indus- 
trial population  of  the  towns.  The  city  population  was 
in  general  comparatively  small  in  Russia,  but  its  num- 
ber was  increasing:  from  4  millions  in  1897  to  6.8  mil- 
lions in  1916  in  the  12  provinces  mentioned  (in  all 
Russia  the  proportion  of  the  city  population  increased 
for  the  same  period  from  12.9  per  cent,  to  17.5  per 
cent.).  Now,  in  1920  the  figure  fell  to  3.8  millions, 
i.e.,  less  than  it  was  in  1897.  The  facts  of  gradual  de- 
terioration and  final  destruction  of  buildings  in  the 
towns,  of  decay  of  municipal  enterprises,  such  as  water- 
works, sewerages,  lighting  systems,  tramways,  etc.,  are 
too  well-known  to  be  dwelt  upon.  Let  us  turn  to  the 
state  of  industry  in  Bolshevist  Russia. 

Fuel  can  be  called  the  key-production  which  deter- 
mines the  state  of  industry.  In  Russia  the  "starvation 
minimum"  for  fuel,  absolutely  necessary  to  keep  up 
production  and  life  in  the  country,  is  considered  to  be 
10  to '11  million  cubic  "sagens"  (1  cu.  sagen=343  cubic 
feet).  Here  are  the  figures  showing  the  total  amount 
of  fuel  in  the  country. 

1916     1917      1918     1919 
Millions  cu.  "sagens" 17.        13.        0.9        0.7 

After  1918  Soviet  Russia  was  cut  off  from  its  coal 
and  petroleum  supply  by  the  civil  war,  and  it  was  only 


192    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

in  the  Spring,  1920,  that  it  entered  into  possession  of 
the  respective  territories.  It  was  thus  left  without  its 
starvation  minimum.  Population,  industry,  transpor- 
tation suffered  greatly  from  the  lack  of  fuel,  as  can  be 
seen  from  the  following  figures  showing  fuel  used  in 
millions  of  cu.  "sagens" : 

1916  1917  1918  1919 
Population  (heating,  water, 

light)    2.8  3.  2.9  1.5 

Industry 5.2  4.  3.2  2.1 

Transportation 9.  6.  3.  3.3 

In  1920,  after  the  defeat  of  Gen.  Denikin,  the  amount 
of  fuel  was  expected  to  rise  to  13.3  million  cubic  "sa- 
gens." Coal,  oil,  timber  was  again  under  the  control 
of  Moscow.  But,  owing  to  general  conditions,  the  out- 
put had  decreased  too  much  in  the  meantime  to  satisfy 
even  the  "starvation  minimum."  It  was  a  little  better 
in  1921,  as  one  can  see  by  the  output  of  coal  for  six 
months  of  1921  as  compared  with  the  same  period  of 
1920  (thousands  of  poods) : 

January  June 

1920  1921 

Donetz  Basin 116  157 

Moscow  Basin 16  22 

Urals 28  34 

Siberia  27  37 

Turkestan  .                          , .  •    —  3 


187  253 

But  it  is  still  very  far  from  normal  production  (Don- 
etz in  1913—753). 
The  production  of  iron  has  fared  no  better.    The 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        193 

total  amount  of  metal  required  by  industry  for  1919 
was  113  million  poods.  But  only  37  millions  could  be 
provided,  i.e.,  about  30  per  cent.  The  actual  amount 
of  iron  used,  however,  was  only  one-half  of  it,  15  per 
cent.  The  reason  was — the  diminution  of  productivity, 
which  was  no  more  than  10  or  even  5  per  cent,  in  the 
best  factories.  The  chief  work  of  the  metallurgic  trust 
"Gomza"  which  unified  in  the  hands  of  the  State  614 
nationalized  concerns  (out  of  the  whole  number  of 
1191),  was  the  construction  of  locomotives  and  of  roll- 
ing stock.  Only  one-fifth  or  one-seventh  of  the  pro- 
gram of  construction  was  accomplished.  If  com- 
pared with  1914,  the  productivity  of  the  Maltsev  fac- 
tory, one  of  the  best,  was  decreasing  at  the  following 
rate: 

1914    1915    1916  . 1917    1918    1919 
100.     56.5     44.7     35.2      12.        7. 

Attempts  were  made  in  1920  to  stop  the  fall  in  the 
productivity  of  labor,  but  in  1921  it  again  resumed  its 
downward  course.  In  the  Auerbach  Mine  in  the  Urals, 
e.g.,  the  average  output  of  ore  per  workman  was  (in 
poods) : 

Dec.  1920      Jan.  1921      Feb.  1921      Mar.  1921 
234  162  186  132 

The  production  of  pig-iron  fell  in  the  interval  from 
1913-1920  from  257,398  thousand  poods  to  6,133  thou- 
sand poods,  i.e.,  to  2.4  per  cent. 

Let  us  take  another  important  trust  of  the  State:  the 
sugar  trust.  The  decline  in  production  is  here  charac- 
terized by  the  following  figures: 


194     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

1914  1915  1916  1917  1918  1919  1920 
Area  sown  with  sug. 

beet  (thous.  dessi- 

atines)  697  682  613  539  411  387  180 

Output  of  sugar 

(million  poods)  . .   105      91      73      56      20        5        6 

The  production  of  flax  was  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant features  of  Russia's  foreign  trade.  One-third  of 
the  output  was  exported.  But  the  peasants  stopped 
sowing  flax,  in  the  first  place,  because  they  had  to  sell 
it  at  fixed  prices,  which  were  too  low,  and  in  the  second 
place,  because  they  needed  grain  and  preferred  to  sow 
cereals.  If  compared  with  1913  the  area  under  flax 
was  especially  reduced.  If  we  take  the  figure  for  1913 
(li/2  million  dessiatines)  as  100,  the  following  figures 
will  be: 

1913        1916        1919        1920 
100          85  35  19 

As  a  result,  instead  of  the  35-40  millions  of  poods  of 
the  pre-war  crops  of  flax,  there  were  13-10  millions 
reaped  after  the  war,  while  in  1919  and  1920  the  crops 
were  5  and  2  millions.  That  ancient  branch  of  Rus- 
sia's production  and  industry  is  thus  entirely  ruined. 

It  has  been  no  better  with  the  other  branch  of  the 
textile  industry,  which  was  particularly  important  in 
Russia's  industrial  history  and  formed  the  backbone 
of  the  Russian  rich  "bourgeoisie," — the  cotton  industry. 
Just  before  the  war  we  succeeded  in  growing  our  own 
cotton  in  Transcaucasia  and  Central  Asia,  and  home- 
grown cotton  was  gradually  substituted  for  the  Ameri- 
can, Egyptian,  East  Indian  and  Persian.  The  Russian 
cotton  industry  occupied  the  fourth  place  in  the  world 
production  (after  Great  Britain,  the  United  States  and 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        195 

Germany).  It  was  all  destroyed  under  the  Bolsheviks. 
The  area  under  cotton  in  Turkestan  speedily  decreased 
as  a  result  of  the  disorganization  of  transport,  decline 
of  industry,  high  prices  of  grain  and  low  prices  of  cot- 
ton. The  figures  are  as  follows  (taking  for  100  the  fig- 
ure for  1916,  553,761  dessiatines) : 

1916        1917        1918        1919         1920 
100        66  14  15  19 

The  slight  improvement  in  the  cotton  crop  acreage 
was  not  reflected  in  improvement  of  the  industry 
owing  to  the  very  inefficient  system  of  purchase  and 
distribution  of  raw  cotton  by  the  "Glavnotextil."  The 
nationalized  concerns  represented  (in  1919)  a  total  of 
6.9  million  spindles  and  162  thousand  weaving  looms. 
Their  yearly  requirements  in  raw  materials  amounted 
to  18  million  poods  of  cotton  and  to  14  million  poods 
of  yarn.  What  did  they  obtain  from  the  Central 
Board?  About  4.7  per  cent,  of  their  requirements. 
The  Centrotextil  set  1,320  thousand  spindles  (i.e.,  19 
per  cent.)  and  53  thousand  weaving  looms  (32  per 
cent.)  to  work.  But  after  8  months  300  thousand 
spindles  (4  per  cent.)  and  18  thousand  weaving  looms 
were  actually  working  (11  per  cent.).  93  concerns 
were  closed  during  1918-1919,  and  the  remaining  ones 
worked  only  a  part  of  the  week.  In  1920  the  factories 
received  about  14  per  cent,  of  their  requirements  (2 
million  poods  of  16  million),  but  proved  unable  to  cope 
even  with  this  quantity.  The  output  fell  to  about  4.3 
per  cent,  of  that  of  pre-revolutionary  times.  The 
program  "maximum"  for  1921  (198  concerns  with  5 
million  spindles  and  120  thousand  weaving  looms)  ne- 
cessitated a  consumption  of  11.5  million  poods  of  cot- 


196     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

ton,  while  no  more  than  6.5  million  were  to  be  found 
in  Turkestan.  Under  the  conditions  of  general  decay 
it  was  hardly  possible  to  achieve  even  the  program 
"minimum"  (103  concerns,  2  million  spindles,  48.5 
thousand  looms,  with  an  output  of  4  million  poods  of 
yarn  and  646  million  arshins  of  cotton  goods). 

Under  such  conditions  of  decaying  industry  what 
could  be  the  position  of  the  working  class,  the  "pro- 
letarians"? We  know  that  their  initial  role  of  masters 
of  the  situation  was  gradually  changed.  Few  of  the 
rank  and  file  succeeded  in  passing  from  the  "Factory 
Committees  of  Workmen"  to  the  newly  built  "Cen- 
tral" and  "Principal"  boards  (see  Chap.  III).  They 
were  there  in  the  minority:  in  1918  in  12  "central" 
trusts  there  were  162  workingmen  to  the  231  commis- 
sars, former  owners  and  managers,  specialists  and  en- 
gineers to  whom  the  real  direction  was  now  intrusted. 
The  administration  of  separate  concerns  was  also  given 
over  to  responsible  directors,  who  were  subordinated 
to  the  central  boards,  while  the  workmen's  committees 
were  abolished. 

For  a  time  it  seemed  as  if  the  workingmen  were 
being  remunerated  by  an  extremely  speedy  increase 
of  their  wages.  But  very  soon  great  disappointment 
ensued.  The  adjustment  of  wages  could  not  keep  pace 
with  the  increase  in  the  market  prices  of  foodstuffs  and 
commodities.  Wages  were  doubled  before  the  end  of 
1917,  but  market  prices  went  up  sevenfold.  Up  to 
the  end  of  1918  wages  were  increased  from  12  to  20 
times,  compared  with  November,  1917.  But  during 
the  same  period  the  price  of  bread  increased  19  times, 
the  price  of  manufactured  goods  20  to  22  tunes,  soap 
and  shoes  25  times,  etc.  In  the  middle  of  1918  an  in- 
quiry was  made  in  Moscow  into  the  budgets  of  2,173 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        197 

workingmen  occupied  in  238  factories.  The  result 
was  to  show  that  more  than  a  half  (56  per  cent.)  re- 
ceived less  than  500  rubles  a  month,  while  the  other 
44  per  cent,  received  from  500  to  1,000  rubles.  Neither 
group  could  live  on  the  wages  alone:  they  had  to  cover 
about  one- third  of  their  budget  (34.5  per  cent.)  by 
spending  their  savings  (17.8  per  cent.),  getting  loans 
(9.3),  selling  objects  of  their  property  (2.2),  etc.  They 
had  to  economize  on  all  items  of  their  budget  (dwell- 
ing-places, clothes,  drugs,  cultural  needs,  etc.)  in  order 
to  buy  food.  That  item  which  before  the  war  made  up 
from  one-third  to  one-half  of  the  workmen's  budget 
(34  to  45  per  cent.),  had  now  increased  to  three-fourths 
of  the  whole  (72-75  per  cent.).  It  follows  that  the 
wages  was  now  barely  sufficient  to  cover  the  expenses 
for  food.  But  as  a  matter  of  fact  it  was  not  sufficient 
even  for  that.  The  same  inquiry  made  it  clear  that 
the  workingmen  could  buy  only  11.5  per  cent,  of  their 
supply  of  food  (8.1  of  the  whole  budget)  for  prices  fixed 
by  the  Government  (by  the  ration  cards).  The  re- 
maining 88.5  per  cent.  (62.8  of  the  whole  budget)  had 
to  be  bought  in  the  free  market,  for  speedily  growing 
prices.  What  could  they  get  there?  The  Petrograd 
statisticians  evaluated  the  minimum  nutriment  to  be 
3,580  calories  a  day.  That  figure  was  reduced  to  1,850 
calories  in  the  autumn  of  1919.  Now,  in  1918  the  work- 
ing men  received  only  6.8  per  cent,  of  that  "famine  ra- 
tion" (245  calories)  for  fixed  prices,  and  had  to  spend, 
according  to  the  market  prices,  about  1,200  rubles  for 
the  remaining  93.2  per  cent,  or — if  they  could  not — be 
undernourished.  In  1919  an  inquiry  covering  44  con- 
cerns with  73,000  workmen  in  Moscow  showed  that 
more  than  a  half  of  them  received  from  10  to  20  per 
cent,  of  the  diminished  minimum  of  calories  (i.e.,  185  to 


198    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

370),  while  the  largest  quantity  distributed  did  not  sur- 
pass 28  per  cent.  (518).  It  was  a  little  better  in  the 
grain  producing  regions:  790  calories  was  distributed  by 
card  rations  in  the  Volga  basin,  853  in  the  Urals  and 
1,557  in  Western  Siberia. 

The  workingmen  had  to  supply  the  rest,  as  I  have 
said,  from  the  free  market.  But  was  there  a  free  mar- 
ket in  "communist"  Russia?  Of  course,  it  did  not 
exist  on  paper.  But,  as  an  inevitable  correction  of  the 
paper  legislation,  it  continued  to  exist  in  life.  Every- 
thing was  sold  and  bought  hi  the  free  market,  but  as 
the  dealers  had  to  run  the  risk  of  official  raids  and 
requisition,  and  as  they  also  had  to  adjust  their  prices 
to  the  speedily  falling  value  of  a  depreciated  currency, 
the  prices  grew  enormously.  Before  the  War  (1914) 
a  daily  food  ration,  evaluated  at  2,700  calories  (which 
is  midway  between  the  two  "starvation  rations"  men- 
tioned above)  cost  in  Moscow  fourteen  copecks.  Its 
price  in  January,  1920,  was  798  rubles,  50  copecks, 
i.e.,  5,703  times  as  much  (in  Siberia  it  was  95  rubles, 
70  copecks,  i.e.,  683  tunes  as  much:  these  are  the  two 
limits  between  which  prices  fluctuated  in  the  different 
provinces  of  Russia).  How  could  a  workingman  afford 
to  cover  that  increasing  difference  between  what  he 
received  and  what  he  had  to  have  for  his  minimum 
expenses? *  He  went  to  the  free  market,  but  he  could 
not  go  there  with  empty  hands,  and  his  salary  as  well 

'The  last  data  about  the  situation  are  given  in  a  report  of  the 
Medical  Director  of  the  American  Relief  Administration,  dated 
November,  1921.  It  shows  that  the  situation  is  changing  from  bad 
to  worse. 

"Prices,  especially  of  food,  are  rising  apace  and  the  ruble  de- 
creasing in  value;  the  exchange  rate  was  68,000  for  $1.00  on  our  ar- 
rival in  September,  and  is  now  over  200,000 ;  and  unofficially  as  much 
as  300,000  per  dollar  is  being  paid.  Considering  that  600,000  rubles 
is  an  average  salary,  even  in  Moscow,  and  that  flour  costs  16,000 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        199 

as  his  savings  were  far  from  sufficient.  He  had  to  help 
himself.  He  did  it,  in  the  full  measure  of  the  political 
influence  which  he  still  possessed  as  the  "hero  of  the 
revolution." 

In  order  to  produce  official  evidence  of  how  he  did 
it,  let  me  quote  from  a  statement  based  on  the  investi- 
gation conducted  by  the  Bolshevist  Interdepartmental 
Commission.  "We  assert,"  the  official  Red  organ,  The 
Economic  Life,  says,  "that  the  abundance  of  goods  of 
all  kinds  which  exists  now  on  the  'speculation'  market 
has  for  its  source  only  the  warehouses  of  Soviet  Russia, 
from  which  these  goods  are  supplied  there  in  a  crim- 
inal fashion.  It  is  we,  ourselves,  who  feed  'Sukhar- 
evka'  (a  market  place  in  Moscow  which  became  the 
chief  center  of  free  trading)  with  the  goods  it  sells 
and  render  useless  our  struggle  against  the  village  ex- 
ploiters who  supply  foodstuffs  to  the  Sukharevka  in 
exchange  for  our  own  cloth,  metal  goods,  etc." 

Stealing  and  selling  of  "nationalized"  goods  stolen 
from  the  Government  on  the  free  market  has  become 
quite  a  custom  in  Russia.  Nobody  thinks  it  dishonest. 
Workingmen  occupied  in  concerns  which  produce 
goods  for  sale,  employees  at  the  Soviet  warehouses  and 
stores  of  supplies,  and  the  lower  class  of  the  Soviet 
bourgeoisie  steal  in  order  to  save  themselves  from 
starvation.  The  latter  are  an  exceedingly  numerous 
clan,  as  every  one  who  does  not  produce  is  obliged  to 

rubles  per  pound,  meat  18.000  rubles  per  pound,  sugar  50,000  rubles 
per  pound,  butter  50,000  to  60,000  rubles  per  pound  and  milk  10,000 
rubles  per  pint,  it  is  quite  obvious  that  food  shortage  and  misery 
extends  beyond  the  actual  starvation  zones.  Persons  in  cities  and 
towns  increase  their  resources  by  selling  in  the  market,  or  privately, 
anything  saleable  which  they  may  have  in  their  homes;  in  fact 
streets  about  the  markets  are  crowded  with  persons  offering  for  sale 
their  household  effects;  ornaments,  bonnets,  toys,  jewelry,  overcoats, 
carpets,  furs  and  what  not,  limited  to  the  provinces." 


200     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

fill  up  the  ranks  of  the  Bolshevist  bureaucracy.  Be- 
fore the  Bolshevist  usurpation  (1917)  employees  and 
clerks  formed  from  10  to  20  per  cent,  of  the  number  of 
workingmen  in  the  Moscow  region.  At  a  later  date, 
under  the  regime  of  nationalization,  the  Bolshevist 
economic  journal  counted  2,000,000  employees  to  the 
3,135,000  workingmen,  i.e.,  63  per  cent. 

However,  bringing  the  manufactured  goods  from  the 
stores  to  the  free  market  is  only  one-half  of  the  task. 
The  other  is — to  bring  to  the  same  market  foodstuffs 
from  the  village.  The  workingmen  undertook  also 
that  other  part  of  the  task.  A  special  profession  of 
middleman  between  the  town  and  the  village  was 
founded:  the  so-called  "bagmen"  or  "sack-bearers." 
They  carried  flour  and  vegetables  from  the  village,  to 
sell  or  for  their  own  use.  The  profession  was  not  with- 
out danger  as  the  workmen  had  to  leave  their  factories, 
which  they  did  mostly  on  the  pretext  of  illness,  while 
the  peasants  had  to  sell  their  produce  in  a  clandestine 
way  as  they  were  forbidden  to  sell  anything  before  pay- 
ing the  assessed  amount  of  foodstuffs.  To  block  the 
free  exchange  between  the  village  and  town  special 
"stop  detachments"  were  formed,  which  intercepted 
the  peasants  and  the  "bagmen"  at  the  railway  stations 
and  in  their  vicinity.  But  the  men  of  the  "stop  de- 
tachments" were  themselves  no  better  and  they  often 
acted  as  an  organization  for  helping,  not  checking,  the 
speculators."  "For  a  bribe  in  money,  alcohol  or  sub- 
stitute liquor,"  the  Petrograd  Pravda  says  (Dec., 
1919),  "they  not  only  permit  the  'speculators'  to  bring 
in  their  products  but  even  help  them.  At  railroad  sta- 
tions one  can  often  see  these  'guardians  of  the  law' 
carrying  a  bag  with  flour  or  other  food  products  on  their 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        201 

shoulders,  pushing  the  passengers  aside,  and  followed 
by  the  'speculators'  in  whose  pay  they  are  and  whose 
contraband  they  carry." 

Thus,  there  was  much  more  behind  that  barter  of 
foodstuffs  for  manufactured  goods  than  the  mere  wish 
of  a  customer  to  sell  and  to  buy.  A  substitute  for  a 
free  trade  apparatus  appeared  in  the  persons  of 
small  tradesmen,  peddlers  or  other  men  of  energy 
and  initiative.  Two  types  «of  real  "speculators" 
appeared  which  soon  became  the  nouveaux  riches 
of  the  communist  society.  One  type  was  that 
of  a  market  dealer  in  goods  who  knew  where  to 
find  the  buyer  and  the  seller,  who  was  himself  buying 
private  ownings  from  the  helpless  "bourgeoisie"  for 
ridiculous  prices,  who  received  commissions  and  soon 
turned  into  a  millionaire.  He  would  then  transform  his 
money  into  more  solid  property,  gold,  jewelry,  foreign 
currency.  Sometimes  such  a  "speculator"  became  the 
victim  of  the  agents  of  the  "Che-Ka,"  who  extorted 
from  him  his  "unearned  increment."  But  they  were 
too  many,  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands,  to  be  thor- 
oughly wiped  out.  The  second  type  was  that  of  a 
"speculator"  of  a  higher  rank.  He  would  receive  orders 
from  the  Government  and  travel,  with  regular  permits 
granted  by  the  Soviet  institutions,  in  a  separate  car. 
He  would  buy  some  20  poods  of  a  merchandise  for  the 
Government,  and  200  for  himself  and  store  them  in 
his  privileged  car.  He  would  buy  saccharin  in  Moscow 
for  50,000  a  kilo  and  would  sell  it  at  Tomsk  for  1,500,- 
000 ;  or  he  would  buy  dried  fruits  and  rice  in  Tashkent 
fifty-six  times  cheaper  than  he  would  sell  these  staples 
in  Samara;  he  would  buy  wheat  flour  in  Tashkent  for 
40,000  a  pood  and  sell  it  in  Samara  for  200,000;  he 


202    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

would  buy  butter  in  Omsk  for  6,000  a  pound  and  sell  in 
Tomsk  for  12,000.*  These  privileged  speculators  be- 
long to  the  higher  Soviet  bourgeoisie,  the  so-called 
"Sov-boors"  who  now  rent  nationalized  concerns  and 
take  contracts  from  the  Government.  They  are  re- 
cruited from  engineers,  lawyers,  former  high  officials, 
the  middle  or  even  upper  bourgeoisie.  Of  course,  they 
must  know  how  to  bribe  influential  Soviet  officials  and 
commissars.  Some  of  the  latter  have  regular  shares  in 
the  organized  speculative  business.  The  socialist  prin- 
ciple (see  Chap.  Ill)  "he  who  does  not  work,  neither 
shall  he  eat"  has  become  transformed  in  Russia  into  a 
more  popular  saying:  "He  who  does  not  speculate, 
does  not  eat."  Speculation  indeed  is  universal,  and 
people  help  each  other  to  evade  detection  by  the  au- 
thorities. This  is  the  substitute  for  free  economic 
initiative.  Naturam  expellas  jurca,  tamen  usque 
recurret. 

The  new  Soviet  bourgeoisie — the  only  social  layer 
which  enjoys  life  in  Russia — were,  of  course,  mostly 
left  unmolested.  But  a  series  of  restrictive  measures 
were  taken  against  the  workingmen.  As  a  result  of 
small  wages  and  shortage  of  food,  they  were  leaving 
their  factories  in  numbers.  Some  of  them  became  "bag- 
men," some  entered  the  ranks  of  the  Red  bureaucracy 
or  served  in  the  Red  Army.  Such  as  had  preserved 
some  connection  with  the  villages  settled  in  the  coun- 
try. Instead  of  the  9,200,000  "proletarians,"  num- 
bered in  that  social  group  in  1897,  only  4,775,000  re- 
mained, according  to  the  official  statistics  for  1921.  In 
January,  1918,  the  official  number  of  men  in  the  nine- 
teen principal  industries  represented  at  the  All-Rus- 

1  These  facts  are  given  in  a  personal  letter  by  a  Russian  who  has 
just  escaped  from  Siberia. 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        203 

sian  Congress  of  Professional  Unions  was  2,532,000. 
But  two  years  later  Trotsky  stated  that  in  all  the  im- 
portant branches  of  industry  there  were  not  much  over 
one  million  on  the  list.  The  number  of  actual  workers 
was  only  about  800,000.  At  the  same  time  the  Com- 
mittee on  Universal  Compulsory  Labor  estimated  the 
labor  shortage  as  230,000  of  skilled  and  over  2,000,000 
of  unskilled  labor.  From  September,  1919,  to  February, 
1920,  thirty-eight  factories  and  foundries  working  for 
"national  defense"  asked  for  39,145  skilled  working- 
men.  But  only  27  per  cent,  of  the  number  required 
(10,158)  could  be  supplied.  In  March  and  April,  1920, 
the  absences  in  railway  workshops  and  factories  were 
more  than  80  per  cent.  All  these  were  the  so-called 
"shock-industries,"  particularly  important  for  the  Bol- 
shevist Government. 

This  could  not  be  tolerated.  Commissary  Lomov  in 
June,  1919,  declared  that  as  things  stood,  "proletarian 
principles  must  be  put  aside  and  the  services  of  private 
capitalistic  apparatus  made  use  of."  As  early  as  March, 
1919,  this  was  also  the  advice  of  Mr.  Krassin.  The  Bol- 
sheviks followed  it  so  successfully  that  not  only  the 
"communistic"  principles  were  thrown  overboard,  but 
even  such  acquisitions  as  had  been  won  by  labor  in  its 
struggle  against  capital  under  the  autocracy,  and  which 
formed  the  substance  of  the  former  Factory  Laws,  were 
entirely  lost  under  the  "dictatorship  of  the  proletariat." 

They  began  by  reintroducing  the  system  of  piece- 
work wages,  which  had  been  abolished  by  the  Pro- 
visional Government.  They  added  to  it  the  system 
of  premiums  for  increased  productivity.  Of  course, 
that  "capitalistic"  device  had  its  usual  consequence. 
In  March,  1919,  Mr.  Rykov,  the  President  of  the  Su- 
preme Council  of  National  Economy,  declared  that  in 


204     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

certain  concerns  the  productivity  had  increased  by  30 
per  cent.  In  1919  the  surplus  wages  paid  under  the 
piece-work  system  as  compared  with  daily  salaries  was 
estimated  for  12  concerns  in  Petrograd  as  68.3  per 
cent. 

Other  "capitalistic"  methods  were  also  revived.  It 
was  permitted  to  arrange  for  overtime  work  according 
to  "internal  regulations"  of  the  factories,  without  the 
sanction  of  the  Unions.  Then  a  supplementary  hour's 
work  was  introduced  as  a  "voluntary"  contribution  of 
the  workingmen.  It  was  also  on  the  "voluntary" 
basis  that  the  workmen  were  supposed  to  agree  to  a 
full  day's  work  on  Saturday.  Finally,  the  Bolshevist 
power  proceeded  to  legislate,  and  it  introduced  by  de- 
crees the  ten,  eleven  and  even  twelve  hour  day  in  rail- 
way work-shops  and  in  concerns  working  for  the  Red 
Army.  Thus,  gradually  they  paved  the  way  for  a  sys- 
tem of  compulsion  of  labor.  The  system  of  premiums 
for  increased  productivity  was  supplemented  by  the 
system  of  penalties  for  idleness  and  absence  from  work. 
These  are  the  very  words  of  the  Decree  of  May  10, 
1920: 

(a)  For  the  first  day  of  absence  during  a  month  15  per 
cent,  of  the  monthly  premium  is  deducted,  for  the  second 
day  25  per  cent.,  for  the  third  day  60  per  cent. 

(b)  Besides  this,  the  work  left  incomplete  during  the 
absences  must  be  made  up  for  after  the  working  hours  and 
during  holidays.    In  this  case  the  workman  may  be  put  to 
any  kind  of  work  irrespective  of  his  specialty  and  will  be 
paid  according  to  the  normal  scale  without  premiums  or  ad- 
ditions established  for  overtime  work. 

(c)  In  cases  of  absence  for  more  than  three  days  in  a 
month  the  guilty  will  be  charged  with  the  crime  of  "sabot- 
age" and  prosecuted  by  disciplinary  tribunals. 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM       205 

The  pre-revolutionary  Factory  Laws  did  not  permit 
the  fining  of  workingmen  more  than  three  rubles  or 
six  days'  wages  for  bad  work  or  for  absence,  on  the  con- 
dition that  the  whole  sum  should  not  be  more  than  a 
third  of  his  earnings  at  the  moment  when  the  fine  is 
imposed. 

But  the  climax  was  reached  when  the  Bolsheviks  de- 
cided to  militarize  labor.  The  idea  was  suggested  by 
three  circumstances.  In  the  first  place,  compulsory 
labor  service  had  existed  from  the  very  beginning  of  the 
communist  regime.  But  it  was  chiefly  applied  to  the 
"bourgeoisie"  and  the  intellectuals  with  the  obvious 
aim  to  "break  the  will"  and  to  degrade  the  former 
"parasitic"  class.  The  "bourgeois"  were  forced  to  re- 
move human  refuse,  to  pave  and  clean  the  streets,  to 
unload  the  coal,  to  drain  the  marshes,  etc.  Now  the 
same  principle  was  to  be  extended  from  the  "unproduc- 
tive" or  "privileged"  groups  to  the  whole  population 
on  the  ground  of  State  necessity.  The  second  circum- 
stance which  suggested  the  militarization  of  labor  was 
the  necessity  of  demobilizing  the  Red  Army  after  the 
defeat  of  the  "White"  armies.  The  original  idea  of  Mr. 
Trotsky  was  to  make  use  of  the  demobilized  army  for 
the  purpose  of  introducing  a  unified  system  of  econ- 
omy "in  every  branch  of  the  economic  life  of  the  coun- 
try, agriculture,  industry,  transportation."  "The 
masses,"  he  explained  to  the  Ninth  Congress  of  the 
Russian  Communist  Party,  "should  be  in  a  position  to 
be  moved  about,  sent  and  ordered  from  place  to  place 
in  exactly  the  same  way  as  soldiers.  .  .  .  Without  this 
we  cannot  speak  seriously  of  any  organization  of  in- 
dustry on  a  new  basis  in  the  present  day  conditions  of 
disorganization  and  starvation." 


206     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

However,  soon  Mr.  Trotsky  changed  his  mind  as  to 
a  continued  existence  of  the  Red  Army.  The  "first 
Labor  Army,"  transformed  from  the  Third  Red  Army 
in  January,  1920,  instead  of  being  demobilized,  was 
only  temporarily  given  such  work  as  wood-cutting  and 
gathering,  loading,  etc.  The  result  was  ridiculous. 
Only  one-tenth  of  the  army  of  150,000  was  actually  at 
work,  and  the  productivity  of  their  unskilled  labor  was 
thirty  times  less  than  the  standard  of  1916.  Trotsky 
went  on  ordering  new  conscriptions  and  increasing  his 
army  on  the  pretext  of  new  dangers  menacing  the  Re- 
public of  workingmen  from  the  "rapacious  imperial- 
ists" all  over  the  world. 

There  remained  the  third  reason  for  militarizing 
labor — "desertion  of  work"  which  was  increasing  from 
the  beginning  of  1920  at  a  menacing  rate.  The  "strug- 
gle with  labor  desertion"  was  formally  sanctioned  by 
the  Ninth  Congress  in  April,  1920.  Methods  of  "mili- 
tarization" were  to  be  preserved  in  that  struggle.  As 
Trotsky  stated,  it  was  more  than  an  analogy  (with  the 
army  discipline).  "No  other  social  organization  has 
ever  considered  itself  justified  in  subordinating  the  will 
of  the  citizens  to  such  an  extent  as  the  army."  It  was 
no  more  the  "political  will  of  the  intelligentsia"  that 
was  now  to  be  "broken"  (Trotsky's  utterings  in  Janu- 
ary, 1919)  but  the  will  of  the  "backward  element"  of 
the  proletarian  masses. 

Accordingly,  a  decree  was  published  in  the  spring, 
1920,  which  incorporated  the  whole  population  into 
special  labor  armies.  A  "General  Committee"  ("Glav- 
komtrude")  is  at  the  head  of  the  new  centralized  or- 
ganization and  local  committees  in  the  provinces 
("Komtrude")  are  affiliated  with  it.  The  "Glavkom- 
trude"  began  by  evaluating  the  whole  number  of  labor 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        207 

requirements  for  1920  at  131,895  skilled  and  1,809,037 
unskilled  workingmen.  (See  above.)  It  had  then  to 
proceed  to  mobilization,  and  extremely  severe  measures 
of  punishment  were  announced  at  the  end  of  May  for 
evasion  of  labor  conscription.  Even  persons  "guilty  of 
aiding  or  giving  refuge  to  labor  deserters"  were  to  be 
punished  by  "fines  or  by  partial  or  complete  confisca- 
tion of  their  property,"  by  imprisonment  or  even  by 
trial  before  the  Revolutionary  Tribunal.  The  special 
"Revolutionary  Council  of  Labor"  ("Revsovtrude") 
was  empowered  to  send  the  enlisted  workingmen  to 
wherever  it  desired,  without  discrimination  of  training, 
in  the  order  of  their  registration. 

During  1920  the  process  of  mobilization  was  pursued, 
rather  fitfully  and  with  very  poor  results,  all  over  Rus- 
sia. The  new  organization  seems  to  have  met  with 
passive  resistance  on  the  part  of  the  proletariat.  A  very 
small  part  of  the  scheme  for  "distribution  of  labor"  in 
1920  was  accomplished.  For  the  first  trimester  of 
1920  only  11,359  workingmen  were  distributed  in  25 
provinces  for  railroad  service.  The  seven  largest  metal- 
lurgical foundries,  working  for  railroad  repair  which  is 
badly  needed  for  the  transport,  asked  the  new  organi- 
zation during  the  second  half  of  1920  for  14,571  men. 
13,383  were  ordered  to  go,  but  8,442  of  them  simply 
disappeared,  and  they  only  got  4,941.  In  Petrograd 
itself,  at  the  end  of  1920,  27,629  were  ordered  to  report 
for  wood-cutting.  Only  2,967,  i.e.,  less  than  11  per 
cent,  actually  reported.  The  amount  of  work  expected 
from  them  was  321,530  cubic  sagens  of  wood  and  1,147,- 
970  logs.  The  work  actually  accomplished  was  77,298 
cubic  sagens  of  wood  and  57,020  logs,  i.e.,  24  per  cent, 
and  7  per  cent. 

This  was  the  best  answer  to  Trotsky's  assertion  that 


208     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

"the  statement  that  free  labor — namely  freely  em- 
ployed labor — produces  more  than  labor  under  compul- 
sion is  correct  only  when  applied  to  feudalist  and  bour- 
geois." The  working  class  now  practically  felt  much 
worse  that  under  the  "bourgeois  order."  The  resolu- 
tion of  Petrograd  workers  of  September  5,  1920,  reads: 
"We  feel  as  if  we  were  hard  labor  convicts  where  every- 
thing but  our  feeding  has  been  made  subject  to  iron 
rules.  We  have  become  lost  as  human  beings,  and  have 
been  turned  into  slaves." 

As  a  result  of  that  state  of  mind,  a  wave  of  strikes 
passed  over  Soviet  Russia  in  1920.  Strikes  have  been 
called  in  77  per  cent,  of  the  large  and  middle-sized 
works.  In  nationalized  undertakings  strikes  were  con- 
tinuous and  90  per  cent,  of  them  were  called  in  just 
such  factories.  This  is  the  statement  of  the  Bolshe- 
vist board  of  statistics  of  the  Commissariat  of  Labor. 

If  such  was  the  policy  of  the  Bolsheviks  toward  a 
class  which  they  claimed  to  represent,  one  may  imagine 
what  it  was  concerning  that  other  class  to  which  the 
great  majority  (85  per  cent.)  of  the  population  be- 
longed,— the  class  of  farmers  which  was  classified  as 
"petty  bourgeoisie"  and,  accordingly,  a  potential  enemy. 

Under  normal  conditions  of  economic  life  the  free 
play  of  exchange  served  as  a  basis  for  regular  inter- 
course between  the  town  and  village.  This  normal  rela- 
tion was  now  greatly  disrupted,  since  the  State  had 
taken  up  the  task  of  organizing  the  whole  system  of 
production,  distribution  and  consumption.  Neither 
the  task  of  providing  the  town  with  foodstuffs  nor  the 
task  of  providing  the  village  with  manufactured  goods 
could  be  even  approximately  solved  by  the  Bolshevist 
Government.  The  result  of  that  wholly  ineffective 
mediation  was  bound  to  be  disastrous  both  for  the 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        209 

town  and  the  village.  Far  from  being  able  to  cope  with 
the  complicated  functions  of  a  "State  Capitalism," 
the  Bolshevist  State  proved  unable  to  perform  the 
more  elementary  functions  of  the  formerly  existing 
State  for  which  it  had  substituted  itself.  We  have 
seen  how  it  destroyed  industry,  and  we  shall  see  how 
agriculture  was  destroyed.  But  before  we  come  to  it 
we  must  dwell  somewhat  upon  the  havoc  it  played  with 
its  own  finances.  It  is  especially  in  that  branch  that 
the  resources  of  a  modern  State  were  completely  de- 
stroyed by  the  new  possessors  of  the  State  power  and, 
as  a  result,  the  whole  structure  has  crumbled  down 
to  the  bottom. 

The  Bolsheviks  came  to  power  with  the  most  san- 
guine and  naive  hopes  as  to  the  use  to  be  made  of  the 
financial  reserves  stored  by  the  "greedy"  bourgeoisie, 
especially  after  their  war-time  "predatory  profits." 
Their  first  financial  scheme  was  thus  to  take  from  the 
"bourgeoisie"  as  much  money  as  they  could  get  out 
under  the  menace  of  terror.  By  a  decree  of  October  30, 
1918,  they  ordered  "an  extraordinary  revolutionary  tax 
to  be  collected  only  once."  They  expected  to  get  from 
the  "bourgeoisie"  the  sum  of  10  billion  rubles:  a  part 
of  the  "enormous  gains  won  by  unrestrained  war  specu- 
lation." Unfortunately  for  the  Soviets,  these  10  bil- 
lions could  never  be  paid. 

The  sum  total  of  the  yearly  national  income  in  pre- 
war Russia  was  estimated  to  amount  to  15  billions. 
Less  than  one-fifth  of  that  sum,  i.e.,  2.6  billions,  could 
be  collected  as  income  tax,  under  ordinary  conditions. 
There  were  in  Russia  only  30,000  taxpayers  who  were 
in  possession  of  a  yearly  income  above  10,000  rubles. 
They  had  to  pay  60  per  cent,  of  the  sum  assessed.  As 
may  be  seen  from  these  figures,  Russia  was  very  poor 


210     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

as  compared  with  the  other  "bourgeois"  nations.  More- 
over, just  these  30,000  well-to-do  people — or  as  many 
of  them  as  had  remained  within  Bolshevist  Russia — 
had  already  suffered  from  every  kind  of  confiscations 
and  requisitions.  It  was  thus  natural  that  by  the  mid- 
dle of  1919  only  iy2  billion  w7as  actually  paid.  The 
Bolsheviks  were  finally  forced  to  recognize  that  their 
great  confiscation  tax  had  utterly  failed. 

Another  attempt  to  grab  the  "bourgeois  capital" 
was  made  by  laying  hands  on  their  open  accounts  in 
'the  banks.  This  idea  was  as  naive  as  the  former  one. 
Two  billions  of  the  "capitalist"  money  had  been  found 
in  the  banks  on  December  15,  1917.  On  May  1,  1918, 
this  money  had  been  confiscated,  with  the  exception 
of  33  millions. 

The  third  device  was  to  put  into  the  budget  for  1919 
the  revenue  of  all  the  nationalized  industry,  commerce, 
ways  of  communications,  former  State  monopolies, 
which  amounted  to  about  13.5  billions.  This  was  a 
great  item:  full  two-thirds  of  the  evaluated  income. 
But  they  forgot  that  the  State  had  taken  upon  itself 
the  ungrateful  task  of  running  all  these  concerns.  Just 
how  unprofitable  it  was  can  be  shown  by  the  follow- 
ing figures.  The  "Centrotextil"  (see  above)  advanced 
for  the  second  part  of  1918.  on  account  of  products 
to  be  received,  1,348,716,000  rubles.  The  value  of 
goods  received  to  secure  this  advance  was  up  to  Janu- 
ary 1,  1919,  only  143,716,000  rubles,  i.e.,  about  10 
per  cent,  of  its  advance.  They  expected  to  receive  for 
goods  issued  for  consumption  during  the  first  half  of 
1919 — 1,503  millions.  The  sum  actually  received  was 
55  millions,  i.e.,  3.5  per  cent.  The  railways,  which  in 
1916  gave  a  net  profit  of  140  million  rubles,  after  their 
nationalization  worked  at  a  loss  of  8  billions  in  1918. 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        211 

The  estimated  expense  for  running  railroads,  national- 
ized concerns  and  supplying  the  workers  amounted  for 
1919  to  24.1  billions,  i.e.,  the  expected  income  of  13.5 
billions  turned  into  the  big  deficit  of  10.6  billions.  The 
reality  was  much  worse  than  the  estimates:  the  final 
deficit  was  33.9  billions,  and  in  1920  it  amounted  to 
315.6  billions. 

What  was  to  be  done?  Indirect  taxation  was  gen- 
erally objected  to  by  socialists.  But  the  Bolsheviks 
not  only  preserved  all  the  former  indirect  taxes,  they 
extended  indirect  taxation  to  all  possible  articles  of  con- 
sumption, and  they  thus  were  able  to  add  to  the  former 
income  of  a  quarter  of  a  billion  eight  times  as  much : 
2*4  billions  in  all.  Compared  with  their  enormous  ex- 
penses it  was  still  a  trifle. 

The  only  source  left  was  to  print  paper  money.  It 
was  rather  queer  for  the  people  who  had  repeatedly 
promised  to  abolish  money  altogether.  But  they  had 
to  do  it.  That  was  the  only  way  to  cover  their  colossal 
deficits  which  were  growing  in  geometrical  progression. 
Of  course,  *paper  money  in  its  turn  increased  the  nomi- 
nal figures  of  expenditures.  The  balance  of  revenue 
and  disbursements  was  as  follows : 1 

1918  1919  1920 

Revenue  (in  billions)   15.6  49.  159. 

Expenditures  (in  billions)   46.9  215.4  1,215.2 

(Expenditures  in  gold  value)   0.89  0.76  0.68 

Deficit   31.3  166.4  1,056.2 

(Deficit  in  per  cent,  of  expenditures)  66.6  77.3  86.9 

We  see  that  two-thirds  of  the  budget  for  1918,  more 
than  three-fourths  for  1919  and  almost  nine-tenths 

*I  take  these  figures  from  M.  Maslov's  remarkable  articles  in  the 
Paris  Posledniya  Novosti  (The  Last  News) — a  Russian  daily  paper. 


212    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

for  1920  were  to  be  covered  with  paper  money.  Infla- 
tion of  currency  had  already  become  conspicuous  dur- 
ing the  war  time.  Before  the  Revolution  of  1917,  272 
million  rubles  had  been  printed  monthly.  The  Provi- 
sional Government  increased  that  figure  to  almost  four 
times:  up  to  one  billion.  The  Bolshevist  Government 
in  1918-1919  printed  six  times  as  much  as  the  Pro- 
visional Government — six  billions  monthly.  In  1920 
the  monthly  emission  of  paper  money  rose  to  thirty- 
eight  times  (38l/2  billions). 

The  quantity  of  paper  money  in  circulation  increased 
accordingly. 

War  time  (1914-16)  —    about  10  billions 

March  Revolution  (1917)  —  19 

The  Bolshevist  Revolution: 

1918  and  1919  "    175 

End  of  1920  '  1000 

We  know  that  the  consequence  was  an  exorbitant  and 
rapid  rise  of  prices  in  speedily  increasing  proportion. 
No  adjustments  of  wages  or  salaries,  however  frequent, 
could  keep  pace  with  the  fall  of  the  paper  currency.  At 
the  beginning  the  Government  tried  to  standardize 
prices.  But  it  had  proved  difficult  even  under  the 
Provisional  Governments  of  1917.  In  August,  1917, 
fixed  prices  for  grain  were  to  be  increased  in  order  to 
impel  the  peasants  to  deliver  their  grain.  Under  the 
Bolsheviks  fixed  prices  were  preserved,  but  as  early 
as  January,  1918,  fixed  prices  for  grain  lost  at  least 
half  their  value  when  compared  with  prices  quoted 
for  other  articles  of  prime  necessity. 

Henceforth  the  peasant  preferred  to  sell  in  the  free 
market,  for  actual,  not  for  fixed  prices.  But  it  meant 
selling  to  private  purchasers,  not  to  the  Government. 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        213 

At  the  beginning  paper  money  was  willingly  received, 
and  soon  the  peasants  became  millionaires.  They 
could  no  more  count  their  rubles.  They  kept  them 
in  bundles,  weighed  them  and  it  became  customary  to 
say:  "We  have  so  many  pounds  or  poods  of  rubles." 
But  then  they  saw  that  their  paper  wealth  was  rapidly 
depreciating.  They  changed  their  minds  and  asked 
for  manufactured  goods.  There  were  some  stores  of 
these  preserved  from  former  years,  but  they  were  soon 
distributed.  The  farmers  could  have  no  more  iron, 
cloth,  shoes,  matches,  etc.  They  had  to  be  satisfied 
with  what  the  burgesses  were  bringing  them  from  the 
town :  furniture,  rugs,  gramophones,  pianos,  etc.  They 
hoarded  all  that,  but  finally  they  had  enough  of  it, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  "bourgeoisie"  had  little  left 
to  sell. 

Of  course,  the  Bolsheviks  did  not  care  about  the 
"bourgeoisie."  But  the  Red  Army  and  the  Red  bu- 
reaucracy had  to  be  fed  and  paid  in  kind.  In  some 
way  or  other  the  Bolshevist  Government  had  to  provide 
for  that.  Otherwise  the  very  basis  of  its  existence 
would  be  shattered. 

The  Bolshevist  Government  had  inherited  from  the 
Provisional  Government  the  grain  monopoly,  which 
had  been  introduced  in  April,  1917,  in  order  to  secure 
supplies  for  the  Army.  The  Bolsheviks  preserved  it 
as  it  fitted  perfectly  into  their  scheme  of  nationalizing 
the  whole  system  of  the  national  economy.  This  was 
just  "State  Capitalism."  But  there  was  that  question 
of  fixed  prices  for  which  the  peasant  was  unwilling  to 
sell.  For  instance,  in  the  fertile  province  of  Kursk  in 
1918  there  was  grain  enough  to  be  sold  at  a  price  of 
$17.00  or  $19.50  the  pood  (36  Ibs.).  But  the  peasants 
refused  to  deal  at  the  fixed  price  of  $8.75,  i.e.,  at  half 


214     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

the  price.  As  a  result,  food  was  sold  to  the  "bagmen" 
or  to  the  Cooperatives,  but  not  to  the  Government. 
The  number  of  carloads  of  grain  actually  sent  off  from 
the  provinces  to  the  central  Government  was  decreas- 
ing at  a  speedy  rate.  Here  are  some  figures  to  illus- 
trate the  situation: 

Carloads  Carloads  actu-  Per  cent,  of 

Provinces                  Ordered  ally  sent  off  orders  executed 

Voronezh 1,000  2  0.2 

Viatka  1,300  14  1.07 

Kazan 400  2  0.5 

Kursk 500  7  1.4 

Orel    300  8  2.67 

Tambov 675  98  14.51 

The  whole  quantity  of  food  supplies  (flour,  rye, 
wheat,  barley,  oats  and  peas)  arriving  in  Petrograd  in 
1917  and  1918  varied  as  follows  (in  tons) : 

January-March    April-June    July -September 

1917 24,626  24,165  20,438 

1918    12,001  5,388  2,241 

The  situation  was  becoming  so  menacing  that  the 
Bolshevist  power  decided  to  resort,  here  too,  to  meth- 
ods of  compulsion.  They  were  twofold.  Free  trade, 
through  "bagmen,"  was  to  be  precluded.  Grain  was  to 
be  registered  in  the  villages  and  delivered  to  the  Gov- 
ernment. 

The  former  measure  had  been  taken  as  early  as  Feb- 
ruary 19,  1918,  in  the  shape  of  a  "compulsory  regula- 
tion" introducing  "stop  detachments"  at  each  large  rail- 
way station,  to  confiscate  provisions  carried  by  the 
passengers.  The  practice  of  these  "stop  detachments" 
was  confined  to  looting,  and  the  requisitioned  goods — 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        215 

of  every  kind — were  mostly  distributed  among  them- 
selves. But  to  a  certain  extent  the  "bagmen's"  trade  in 
its  primitive  form  was  actually  reduced  and  it  took  the 
professionally  organized  form  of  which  we  have  already 
spoken.  (See  above.)  The  prohibition  only  increased 
"speculation"  and  the  further  growth  of  prices. 

The  latter  measure  was  taken  by  a  Decree  of  May 
14,  1918.1  The  Decree  was  a  fierce  attack  upon  "the 
village  bourgeoisie,"  which  "remains  stubbornly  deaf 
and  indifferent  to  the  wailings  of  starving  workmen 
and  peasant  poverty,  and  does  not  bring  the  grain  to 
the  collecting  points,"  while  selling  it  "at  home  at 
fabulous  prices  to  grain  speculators."  The  Bolsheviks 
decided  that  "the  answer  to  the  violence  of  grain-owners 
towards  the  starving  poor  must  be  violence  towards  the 
bourgeoisie."  "Not  a  pood  should  remain  in  the  hands 
of  those  holding  the  grain,  except  the  quantity  needed 
for  sowing  the  fields  and  provisioning  the  families  until 
the  new  harvest."  The  amount  to  be  retained  was 
exceedingly  low:  432  Ibs.  of  flour  and  648  Ibs.  of  po- 
tatoes. The  Russian  peasants  under  normal  conditions 
need  almost  double  that  quantity,  as  bread  and  potatoes 
form  practically  their  sole  sustenance.  In  order  to 
"compel  each  grain-owner  to  declare  the  surplus,"  the 
workingmen  and  the  poor  peasants  were  invited  "to 
unite  at  once  for  a  merciless  struggle  against  the  grain- 
hoarders,"  and  the  powers  of  the  People's  Food  Com- 
missioner were  extended  so  as  to  override  all  local  food 
bodies  and  to  use  armed  forces  in  cases  of  resistance. 

The  Government  thus  entered  the  stage  of  class  war 
between  the  town  and  the  village.  A  "crusade"  against 

1  The  full  text  of  this  symptomatic  decree  is  published  in  Mr.  John 
Spargo's  book:  "The  Greatest  Failure  in  All  History,"  Harper,  1920, 
New  York  and  London. 


216     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

the  village  bourgeoisie  was  formally  declared  by  a  de- 
cision of  the  All-Russian  Executive  Committee.  The 
Soviets  of  Moscow  and  Petrograd  were  ordered  in  June 
"to  mobilize  10,000  workers,  to  arm  them  and  to  equip 
them  for  a  campaign  for  the  conquest  of  wheat  from 
the  rapacious  and  the  monopolists." 

The  "rapacious,"  the  "tight-fisted"  village  dealers  and 
"profiteers"  as  a  matter  of  fact  were  the  great  majority 
in  the  Russian  village.  The  Bolshevist  emissaries  met 
with  the  most  decided  and  stubborn  resistance.  When 
they  appeared  in  the  village  they  were  often  beaten 
half-dead,  hunted  like  wild  animals,  killed  and  torn 
to  pieces  by  the  infuriated  crowd.  That  is  why  the 
order  was  to  "equip  for  a  campaign"  full  detachments 
of  workingmen.  Such  detachments  were  really  formed. 
In  June,  1918,  the  "Food  Army"  consisted  of  about 
3,000  bayonets.  In  December  it  had  grown  to  36,500 
men.  But  the  Bolsheviks  themselves  in  their  report 
on  the  work  of  that  Food  Army  had  to  avow  that  "in 
the  course  of  its  work  (i.e.,  during  four  months)  it 
has  lost  7,309  men  killed,  wounded,  etc.," — i.e.,  one- 
fifth  of  its  number. 

The  more  important  point  for  the  Bolsheviks  was 
that,  although  the  amount  of  grain  collected  increased 
a  little  owing  to  the  activity  of  these  requisitioning 
detachments,  they  had  to  be  fed  on  it  first,  and  the 
amount  of  supplies  that  reached  the  cities  continued 
to  decrease.  In  fact  it  was  never  as  low  as  just  at 
that  time  (see  above  figures  for  July-September,  1918 
for  Petrograd).  If  the  civil  war  was  to  bear  any  real 
fruit,  it  obviously  had  to  be  transferred  to  the  village 
itself,  and  not  be  brought  to  it  from  the  outside.  And 
so  it  was  decided.  The  "poor  peasants"  had  to  join  the 
workingmen. 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        217 

On  June  11, 1918,  a  decree  was  issued  establishing  the 
"Pauper  Committees"  (or  "the  Committees  of  the 
Poor")  in  every  village.  Only  such  as  were  supporting 
the  Bolshevist  authority  were  elected  to  the  commit- 
tees, and  mostly  they  were  the  worst  elements  in  the 
community:  the  least  thrifty,  sometimes  criminals. 
Outsiders,  as  "chance  visitors,"  were  permitted  to  be 
elected  together  with  the  "local  residents."  The  "Pau- 
per Committees"  were  given  great  power,  and  one  can 
easily  imagine  how  much  lawlessness  and  mutual  ha- 
tred was  introduced  into  the  Russian  village  by  this 
new  form  of  the  rule  by  the  "conscious  minority."  It 
can  also  be  easily  understood  why  it  was  just  the  Pauper 
Committees  which  made  the  farmers  closely  acquainted 
with  the  methods  of  the  Bolshevist  compulsion  and 
provoked  a  series  of  uprisings.  The  "paupers"  were, 
of  course,  the  first  to  suffer  from  these  uprisings.  But 
then,  detachments  of  Red  soldiers,  chiefly  aliens,  were 
sent  to  punish  the  rebels,  and  the  uprisings  were  regu- 
larly stifled.  However,  one  result  of  this  new  form  of 
civil  war  appeared  as  early  as  the  autumn  of  1918.  The 
peasants  reduced  the  area  of  their  autumn  sowing. 
"Why  should  we  sow?"  they  are  reported  to  have  said. 
"If  one  is  permitted  to  take  away  grain  from  others, 
without  doing  any  work, — well,  we  had  better  remain 
without  grain,  and  be  classed  as  poor." 

The  Decree  of  May  14,  1918,  started  with  the  sup- 
position that  "in  the  producing  provinces  of  Russia 
there  were  large  reserves  of  grain  of  the  harvests  of 
1918  and  1917  not  yet  even  threshed."  The  Decree 
of  October  30, 1918,  still  tried  to  persuade  the  "paupers" 
that  the  well-to-do  peasants  had  "surpluses"  of  grain, 
because  the  land  was  not  yet  partitioned  in  equal  lots 
and  they  possessed  better  and  larger  lots  than  the 


218     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

others.  The  reason  is  not  good,  as  the  well-to-do  peas- 
ants who  formed  the  great  majority  just  possessed  the 
average  lots.  But  the  fact  of  there  being  reserves  of 
grain  in  1918  is  probable.  It  is  also  true  that  the  at- 
tempts of  the  Government  to  lay  its  hand  on  these 
reserves  failed  utterly.  Lenin  himself  avowed  that  no 
more  than  28  million  poods  in  the  first  half  of  1918 
and  67  million  poods  in  the  second  half  could  be  col- 
lected by  the  Governmental  agencies  as  a  result  of  the 
Bolshevist  food  policy.  The  Bolsheviks  had  to  recog- 
nize their  mistakes  and  change  their  methods. 

A  new  term  now  appeared  in  the  official  decrees  of 
1919:  "the  middle  peasantry."  Both  Lenin  and  Trot- 
sky in  their  letters  published  in  February,  1919,  agreed 
that  there  was  a  "third  group"  in  the  village,  between 
the  "tight-fists"  and  the  "paupers,"  "with  its  one  wing 
adjoining  the  proletariat,  with  its  other  merging  with 
the  bourgeoisie."  Lenin  wished  to  believe  that  they 
"were  not  the  enemies  of  the  Soviet  Government,"  while 
Trotsky  desired  to  persuade  them  that  the  Soviet  Gov- 
ernment "does  not  compel  and  never  intends  to  compel 
the  middle  peasantry  to  change  to  the  communistic 
forms  of  land  tilling." 

Obviously,  the  peasant  uprisings  of  the  autumn  of 
1918,  had  duly  impressed  the  Bolshevist  leaders.  In 
the  same  autumn  an  official  order  was  published  which 
tried  to  conciliate  the  "middle  peasantry."  It  was 
recognized  that  "in  many  cases  the  interests  of  the 
middle  peasantry  were  violated."  As  the  "village  pau- 
pers" were  considered  by  the  population  to  be  "an  in- 
strument of  repression  against  the  rest  of  the  rural 
population,"  it  was  explained  that,  on  the  contrary, 
the  pauper  committees  were  "revolutionary  organs  of 
the  whole  of  the  peasantry  against  the  former  land- 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        219 

owners,  the  rich  'tight-fists/  the  merchants  and  the 
priests."  This  classification,  of  course,  was  also  far 
from  being  definite.  Lenin,  in  his  speech  at  the  Con- 
gress of  the  Communist  Party,  in  April,  1919,  went 
further.  He  said:  "Even  with  respect  to  the  rich 
peasant  we  do  not  speak  with  the  same  determination 
as  with  regard  to  the  bourgeoisie.  We  do  not  say: 
absolute  expropriation  of  the  rich  peasantry.  We  say: 
the  suppression  of  the  resistance  of  the  peasantry.  .  .  . 
This  is  not  complete  expropriation ! "  At  the  same  time 
Lenin  counseled  his  comrades  to  moderation.  "We 
cannot  expect  the  middle  peasant  to  come  over  to  our 
side  immediately."  "We  have  learned  how  to  over- 
throw the  bourgeoisie  and  suppress  it.  ...  We  have 
not  yet  learned  how  to  regulate  our  relations  with  the 
millions  of  the  middle  peasants  and  how  to  win  their 
confidence.  .  .  .  We  must  live  in  peace  with  the  mid- 
dle peasantry.  The  middle  peasantry  in  a  communistic 
society  will  be  on  our  side  only  if  we  lighten  and  im- 
prove its  economic  conditions.  .  .  .  First  help  him,  and 
then  you  will  secure  his  confidence." 

Accordingly,  new  tactics  were  resorted  to  in  the 
villages.  Lenin's  idea  was  to  try  the  Cooperative  ap- 
paratus now,  and  it  was  so  decided  by  the  Congress. 
By  a  Decree  of  August  8,  1918,  the  consumers'  Cooper- 
atives (about  20,000  organizations  uniting  about  7,000,- 
000  consumers)  had  been  made  use  of  as  semi-official 
organizations  for  the  compulsory  purchase  of  grain 
from  the  peasants.  The  peasants  had  to  bring  their 
grain  to  collecting-centers  and  receive  payment  for 
it  partly  in  money  and  partly  in  credit  orders  on  Co- 
operative stores  in  the  vicinity.  In  March,  1919,  an- 
other decree  was  issued  which  permitted  "free  sales 
of  products,  including  foodstuffs."  As  a  symbol  of  the 


220     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

union  between  the  peasantry  and  the  proletarians,  Ka- 
lenin,  a  peasant-Bolshevik,  was  elected  President  of  the 
Central  Executive  Committee,  and  in  his  address 
(April,  1919)  he  preached  a  conscientious  collection 
of  the  tax  in  kind  and  depicted  idyllic  scenes  of  free 
exchange  of  articles  of  agriculture  and  of  home  con- 
sumption for  farm  and  household  utensils  at  local  fairs. 

The  results,  however,  did  not  justify  these  expecta- 
tions. By  September,  1919,  only  38.1  per  cent,  of  the 
assessed  quantity  of  bread  and  fodder  grain  had  been 
collected  (about  100  million  poods) ;  by  January,  1921, 
the  figure  was  a  little  over  200  million  poods.  The 
Government  needed  twice  that  much. 

The  official  organ  Izvestia  (November  3,  1919),  ex- 
plained the  lack  of  success  by  "the  class  war  which 
has  become  permanent  and  continuous,"  as  well  as 
by  the  diffidence  of  the  peasants.  They  are  not  yet 
"sufficiently  farsighted  to  be  quite  convinced  of  the 
stability  of  the  Soviet  Power  and  of  the  inevitability  of 
socialism,"  and  for  this  reason  or  some  other  they  "con- 
sider Soviet  money  of  no  value,  not  being  able  to  buy 
anything  with  it."  The  paper  does  not  mention  the 
fact — officially  stated  in  another  Red  periodical — that 
the  area  under  cultivation  had  already  diminished  for 
that  year  (1919)  by  13,500,000  acres  in  28  provinces: 
a  further  result  of  the  slackening  of  incentives  for 
keeping  up  production  on  the  level  attained  under 
better  conditions. 

"The  peasants  conceal  their  bread":  such  was  the 
official  explanation  of  the  failure  to  receive  the  neces- 
sary food  for  the  Red  Army  and  the  Red  officials  in 
1919.  The  practical  conclusion  was  that  the  whole 
flirtation  with  the  "middle  peasantry"  was  useless  and 
unnecessarily  sentimental.  The  "selfish"  policy  of  the 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        221 

farmers  was  thus  exposed  and  censured  by  Mr.  Os- 
sinsky,  the  Soviet  economist.  "In  order  to  escape 
requisitions,  the  middle  peasants  in  many  localities 
plant  grass  and  other  crops  unfit  for  human  consump- 
tion, instead  of  food  grains.  They  make  every  effort 
to  reduce  the  area  under  cultivation,  sowing  only  what 
they  require  for  themselves.  .  .  .  They  sell  whatever 
horses  they  have  in  the  autumn,  attempting  in  that 
way  to  evade  labor  duty,  and  then  dispose  of  whatever 
fodder  they  have  to  "speculators." 

Arguments  like  these  convinced  the  Food  Depart- 
ment that  force  must  be  applied  to  compel  the  peas- 
ants to  mind  their  interests.  At  the  same  time  the 
government  decided  to  increase  their  claims  from  the 
peasants.  The  program  for  1920  was  again  about  400 
millions.  Unusually  severe  measures  were  to  be  ap- 
plied to  carry  it  out.  (See  Chap.  VIII.)  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  more  than  the  assessed  amounts  was  requisi- 
tioned from  certain  localities  and,  in  general,  the  local 
authorities  did  not  concern  themselves  with  the  figures 
designated.  They  were  helped  by  the  fact  that  in  1920 
new  territories,  especially  rich  in  grain,  were  added  to 
Bolshevist  Russia,  such  as  Southern  Russia  (the 
Ukraine),  the  Caucasus,  Siberia.  Food  stores  were  as 
yet  unexhausted  in  these  regions,  and  this  helped  the 
Bolsheviks  through  the  year  1920.  But  this  was  their 
last  resource.  In  1920  and  1921  they  exhausted  Siberia 
in  the  same  way  as  they  had  exhausted  the  original 
territory  of  Bolshevist  Russia  in  1918  and  1919.  It 
was  the  same  Pauper  Committees  in  the  villages,  the 
same  civil  war  and  continuous  uprisings,  the  same  sys- 
tem of  repression  and  extermination  of  the  more  active 
and  intellectual  element,  and,  as  a  result,  increased 
assessment  of  grain  tax  and  enforced  requisitioning  of 


222     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

stores.  The  objections  of  local  specialists  against  the 
immeasurably  high  assessments  were  explained  as  "sa- 
botage" and  counter-revolution.  In  many  regions  of 
Siberia  there  was  not  enough  grain  left  even  for  seeds, 
and  in  1921  the  planted  area  was  no  more  than  50 
per  cent,  of  that  in  1920.  The  well-to-do  peasants  pre- 
ferred to  hide  their  grain  rather  than  sow  it;  they  pre- 
ferred to  slaughter  their  live  stock  for  meat,  to  consume 
their  milk,  butter,  eggs,  than  to  give  all  these  to  the 
Bolsheviks.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  Bolshevist  food 
policy  "took  out  the  soul  from  agricultural  labor,  de- 
prived the  peasant  of  any  stimulus  to  work,  any  desire 
for  improvement  and  increased  effort."  I  have  sum- 
marized here  a  very  detailed  description  in  a  per- 
sonal letter,  and  my  informant  adds:  "What  a 
relief  it  might  have  been  for  starving  Russia — 
these  two  million  dessiatines  left  without  seeds  in  the 
Altaisk,  Tomsk  and  Semipalatinsk  regions,  where  crops 
were  satisfactory  in  1921.  The  Volga  basin  would  not 
have  been  converted  into  a  real  dead  wilderness  and 
peasants  would  not  have  died  as  early  as  August,  if 
the  Soviet  power  had  not  pumped  out  absolutely  all 
the  stores  left  in  a  region  which  already  in  1920  had 
suffered  from  great  shortage  of  food."  (See  Chap. 
VIII.) 

I  especially  emphasize  the  fact  of  exhaustion  of 
stores  in  old  and  in  newly  acquired  territories  because 
it  partly  explains  the  exceptionally  good  success  of  Mr. 
Ossinsky's  large  program  of  food  requisitioning  in  1920. 
The  theoretical  estimate,  based  on  the  yearly  home 
consumption  of  664  Ibs.  per  head  of  the  population,  was 
that  only  108  million  poods  of  crops  would  remain  free, 
to  be  requisitioned  by  the  State.  But  as  a  matter  of  fact 
the  Commissariat  of  Food  Supply  succeeded  in  collect- 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM       223 

ing  350  millions  by  assessment.  Moreover,  it  was  esti- 
mated that  about  240  million  poods  were  obtained  by 
the  "bagmen."  Where  could  the  482  millions 
(350  +  240—108)  lacking  be  found?  Mr.  J.  Larin, 
the  leading  Bolshevist  economist,  answered  in  Mr. 
Ossinsky's  spirit:  "It  is  clear  that  the  peasants  have 
succeeded  in  cheating  our  statisticians  to  the  amount 
of  482  million  poods  or  to  about  one-quarter  of  the 
total  amount  which  the  population  has  declared  to  the 
local  statistical  organizations  as  the  total  yield  of  the 
crops  (1,687  million  poods,  exclusive  of  513  million 
poods  of  seeds)/'  and  he  confidently  raised  by  25  per 
cent,  the  program  for  1921.  To  which  Mr.  Larin's  com- 
munist opponent,  Mr.  Popov,  who  is  the  head  of  the 
Central  Statistical  Department,  very  reasonably  ob- 
jected, that  it  remained  to  be  proved  whether  the  mys- 
terious 482  millions  really  were  taken  from  the  avail- 
able surpluses.  "Was  it  that  the  Commissariat  of  Food 
really  took  surpluses,  or  did  it  take  grain  according  to 
the  assessment,  the  assessment  for  1920  being  fixed 
without  any  regard  to  surpluses  or  to  deficits?  This 
being  so,  all  the  conclusions  arrived  at  by  comrade 
Larin  fall  to  the  ground." 

We  quote  this  learned  dispute  between  the  two 
economists  of  Bolshevist  Russia  in  order  to  show  how 
superficial  and  irresponsible  were  the  minds  by  which 
Russia  was  doomed  to  pass  through  the  famine  of  1921. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  350  millions  requisi- 
tioned by  the  agents  of  the  Food  Department  were 
taken  from  the  reserve  stocks,  which  were  now  utterly 
exhausted,  and  that  the  real  yearly  consumption  for 
1921  fell  far  below  that  tolerably  good  figure  of  644  Ibs. 
per  head. 

The  gruesome  fact  of  starving  Russia,  which  we  shall 


224     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

describe  in  the  next  chapter,  is  a  convincing  answer  to 
Messrs.  Ossinsky  and  Larin's  indictment  of  the  peas- 
ants' concealment.  The  Bolsheviks  foresaw  the  dry 
season  and  were  unable  to  close  their  eyes  to  the  dis- 
aster. They  were  frightened — not  so  much  for  Russia 
as  for  their  further  existence.  Mr.  Lenin,  at  a  new 
congress  of  his  party,  on  March  15,  1921,  came  out 
with  a  new  program  of  concessions. 

"The  situation  is  now  this,"  he  said.  "Either  we 
must  satisfy  the  middle  peasants  economically  and  con- 
sent to  a  freedom  of  commodity  exchange,  or  it  will  be 
impossible  to  maintain  the  power  of  the  proletariat  in 
Russia,  in  view  of  the  slowing  down  of  the  interna- 
tional revolution."  "We  know  that  only  an  under- 
standing with  the  peasantry  can  save  the  social  revolu- 
tion, until  the  revolution  is  ready  to  break  out  in  other 
countries." 

There  followed  some  elementary  avowals.  Mr.  Lenin 
now  dared  openly  to  recognize  that  "the  small  peasant 
has  aims  that  are  not  the  same  as  those  of  the  worker." 
"In  Russia  the  industrial  workers  are  in  the  minority 
and  the  small  farmers  overwhelmingly  in  the  majority." 
"The  transformation  of  the  entire  psychology  of  the 
petty  peasants  is  a  labor  that  will  require  generations." 
In  the  meantime  "it  is  impossible  to  deceive  a  class  of 
the  population  and  it  is  dangerous  to  go  on  deceiving 
one's  self.  It  is  time  to  admit  frankly  that  the  peasants 
manifestly  refuse  to  accept  proletarian  dictatorship 
any  longer.  .  .  .  We  must  grant  freer  economic  rela- 
tions between  the  workers  and  peasants.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  we  have  hitherto  acted  in  a  too  military  manner. 
...  If  some  communists  thought  the  organization  of 
a  socialistic  state  was  possible  in  three  years,  they  were 
dreamers.  Freedom  of  economic  relations  means  free 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        225 

trade,  and  free  trade  signifies  a  return  to  capitalism. 
Those  who  believe  that  in  this  Russia  of  peasants  so- 
cialism can  be  reached,  simply  believe  in  Utopia." 

Far-reaching  conclusions  could  have  been  drawn 
from  these  new  admissions.  But  such  conclusions 
would  have  implied  the  possibility  of  resigning  or  re- 
nouncing the  whole  experiment.  Far  from  this  being 
the  case,  Mr.  Lenin's  concessions  to  reality  and  to  "capi- 
talism" did  not  go  beyond  what  he  planned  for  1919 
when  the  danger  of  destruction  of  the  agricultural  basis 
of  the  national  economy  first  became  universally  self- 
evident.  Lenin's  proposals  accepted  by  the  March 
Congress  were: 

1.  To  replace  the  levy  as  a  means  of  supplying  the  State 
with  foodstuffs,  raw  materials  and  fodder  by  taxation  in 
kind. 

2.  The  amount  of  the  tax  to  be  estimated  so  as  to  cover 
the  minimum  requirements  of  the  army,  the  town  workers 
and  the  agricultural  workers,  but  at  the  same  time  to  be  less 
than  the  quantity  assessed  in  accordance  with  the  State  levy. 

3.  The  surplus  supplies,  in  excess  of  the  tax,  to  be  freely 
exchanged  for  manufactured  goods,  either  at  the  local  mar- 
ket place  or  through  the  cooperative  societies. 

However,  there  were  reasons  enough  for  the  peasant 
to  remain  suspicious.  The  independence  of  the  cooper- 
ative societies  was  at  that  very  time  finally  abolished 
by  the  Decree  of  March  20,  1921.  They  were  incor- 
porated into  the  State  organism  and  hierarchically 
subordinated  to  the  central  institutions.  Liberty  of 
initiative  and  enterprise  on  the  part  of  the  population 
was  thus  definitely  destroyed.  Manufactured  goods,  of 
course,  were  not  to  be  had  by  paper  order.  Lenin  ex- 
pected "to  obtain  a  certain  part  of  the  goods  from 
abroad"  and  thus  to  strengthen  the  power  of  the  State 


226     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

and  "to  keep  power  more  firmly  in  the  hands  of  the 
proletariat."  But  it  took  time  to  restore  trade  rela- 
tions with  foreign  capitalists.  Again,  one  could  not 
see  how  the  change  in  form  of  assessment  could  bring 
about  with  it  the  diminution  of  the  amount  of  tax, 
if  the  requirements  of  the  Red  Army  and  the  bureau- 
cracy were  to  be  met.  Poor  crops  did  not  permit  the 
Bolsheviks  to  diminish  their  "minimum"  demands. 
The  "minimum"  was  estimated  at  its  former  figure  of 
400  million  poods,  namely: 

For  the  army,  the  workingmen  and  rural 

population  (Bolshevist  bureaucracy)  200-250  millions 

For  the  urban  population,  at  the  mini- 
mum ration  of  400  Ibs.  per  head 160  millions 

The  tax  in  kind  was  to  give  240  millions,  and  the  rest 
was  to  be  obtained  by  exchange  of  goods.  But  they 
themselves  admitted  that  in  1921  the  tax  in  kind  could 
hardly  give  more  than  180  millions  and  they  expected 
to  get  the  other  part  also  "from  import."  They  also 
could  not  conceal  from  themselves  that  the  help  to 
the  starving  population  would  amount  to  60  millions 
at  least,  even  at  half-minimum  rations.  All  these  ele- 
ments of  uncertainty  left  the  whole  scheme  of  the 
new  tax  and  free  trade  in  suspense. 

No  complete  picture  can  as  yet  be  drawn  of  the  re- 
sults of  the  food  campaign  for  1921.  But  preliminary 
and  detached  facts  testify  to  an  ominous  failure  in  all 
details  of  the  program.  In  the  first  place,  it  was  made 
known  too  late  in  the  rural  districts,  and  a  great  number 
of  local  committees  refused  their  cooperation  and  con- 
tinued to  levy  grain  by  force.  In  the  second  place,  the 
scheme  met  with  suspicion  and  opposition  on  the  part 
of  the  population  which  very  often  looked  at  the  tax 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        227 

in  kind  as  an  addition  to  the  former  assessment,  not 
a  substitute  for  it.  The  attempts  of  the  Government 
compulsorily  to  increase  the  planted  area,  on  the  oc- 
casion of  the  spring  seed  failed.  Sometimes  the  irri- 
tated population  went  to  the  limit  of  burning  the  Gov- 
ernment seeds.  At  last  the  central  authorities  yielded 
to  necessity  and  decided  to  come  back  to  the  former 
methods  of  compulsion.  In  December  Lenin  ordered 
the  Executive  Committee  to  resort  to  force  for  collect- 
ing the  arrears  of  the  tax  in  kind,  said  to  amount  to 
100  million  poods.  Beginning  with  Dec.  10,  the  Execu- 
tive Committee  had  to  work  "day  and  night,"  in  order 
to  finish  the  collection  before  Christmas.  The  most 
energetic  communist  workers  were  "flung"  into  the 
provinces  and  the  revolutionary  tribunals  prepared  to 
punish  the  recalcitrants. 

I  do  not  know  what  was  the  result  of  this  new  effort. 
But  figures  given  by  the  Food  Commissariat  on  Oc- 
tober 6,  1921  (the  agricultural  year  ends  with  Sep- 
tember) were  far  from  promising.  The  Commissariat 
had  collected: 

Tax  in  kind 34.9  million  poods 

From  the  Soviet  Estates 1 0.6 

Return  of  seed  loans 5.7 

Sundry    4. 

From  the  Ukraine  .  .  13.3 


58.5 

1  The  "Soviet  Estates"  is  an  attempt  to  introduce  communism  into 
agriculture.  The  land  taken  over  for  Soviet  estates  is  exclusively 
that  which  formerly  belonged  to  the  large  landowners.  Of  course, 
only  a  small  part  of  that  land  could  be  given  for  communist  or 
collectivist  experiments,  as  the  peasants  took  most  of  it  (86  per  cent., 
or  20.8  million  dessiatines  out  of  24.1)  for  individual  holdings.  The 
"Soviet  Estates"  (Sovkhoses)  received  about  9  per  cent,  of  that  land. 
For  1921  the  "Sovkhoses"  were  expected  to  sow  over  half  a  million 


228    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

As  we  know  the  total  amount  of  the  tax  in  kind  was 
to  be  240  or  at  least  180  million  poods,  while  the  total 
requirement  of  food  for  the  Soviet  Government  was 
about  400  millions  (see  above).  You  now  see  that 
the  situation  had  become  quite  tragic,  and  drastic 
changes  were  to  be  introduced  into  the  food  budget 
for  the  Government  to  be  able  further  to  sustain  them- 
selves and  their  chief  supporters.  If  all  could  not  be 
fed  by  the  State,  a  choice  of  the  most  necessary  ones 
had  to  be  made  by  the  Government. 

We  have  proofs  that  the  Bolshevist  Government  has 
indeed  trodden  that  path  of  self-liquidation.  The  Red 
bureaucracy — or  rather  such  part  of  it  as  had  filled  up 
its  ranks  involuntarily,  in  order  not  to  starve,  were  the 
first  to  be  sacrificed.  The  announcement  was  pub- 
lished that  a  full  2l/2  million,  especially  women,  were 
to  be  given  notice.  We  also  have  the  figures  of  a  pro- 
gram of  food  distribution  for  1922  (October  to  Oc- 
tober), covering  all  the  persons  who  will  receive  food 
from  the  State,  exclusive  of  the  Ukraine  and  Turkestan, 
some  special  fund,  and  the  fund  of  the  army.  This 

dessiatines  and  to  yield  a  surplus  of  over  5%  million  poods  of  grain, 
1%  million  poods  of  groats,  SVz  million  poods  of  potatoes,  7  mil- 
lion of  vegetables  and  a  great  amount  of  grain  fodder.  The  figure 
given  in  the  text  shows  how  small  was  the  actual  contribution.  Here 
is  the  picture  of  the  "Soviet  Estates"  given  in  the  official  organ  The 
Economic  Life  of  April  17,  1921.  "In  most  of  the  Sovkhoses  there 
is  no  staff  of  permanent  workmen,  the  whole  work  being  done  by 
daily  laborers,  to  whom  the  welfare  of  the  whole  enterprise  is  a  mat- 
ter of  indifference.  The  work  is  done  in  a  very  reckless  way,  and 
the  worst  feature  is  that  everything  that  can  be  carried  away  is 
stolen:  reins,  harness,  sometimes  even  the  plow,  together  with 
the  horse.  In  some  cases,  the  Sovkhose  consists  of  a  mansion,  a 
garden,  some  fields,  one  or  two  cows  and  a  horse.  The  manager 
uses  the  horse  for  his  pleasure  rides,  and  the  farming  is  done  by 
the  peasants  of  the  surrounding  villages,  who  distribute  the  fields 
among  themselves,  and  receive  in  payment  half  of  the  harvest." 
Very  often  also  a  Sovkhose  consumes  more  than  it  produces  and  is 
classified  as  "consuming"  or  "self-supporting." 


THE  DECLINE  OF  BOLSHEVISM        229 


program  also  shows  great  reductions  to  be  made,  es- 
pecially in  the  civil  service,  and  great  pessimism  con- 
cerning the'  resources  to  be  drawn  upon.  The  food 
resources  are  here  estimated  as  follows  (cf.  the  figures 
above) : 

Food   levy,  return  of  seed   loans   and 

charge  for  milling 160  million  poods 

From  free  trade 15 

From  the  Ukraine  .  57      "  " 


Total    232 

Deducting  for  fodder 45 


Grain  and  grits,  total 187 

The  ration  is  based  on  2,600  calories  per  person  per 
day.  The  groups  of  the  .population  which  still  are 
to  be  cared  for  by  the  State  are  (the  numbers  of  "eaters" 
is  doubled,  to  include  the  "families") : 


Workingmen:  Eaters 

Transportation    1,800,000 

Industry   2,300,000 

Soviet  Employees: 

(in  central  boards) . . .  2,350,000 

Children,    invalids, 
charity,  prisoners. ..      925,000 

Seed  loans 

Famine  Relief 

Sundries    , 


Yearly  ration 
(thousands  of  poods) 
24,300 
31,050 

28,200 

11,306.3 
15,000 
12,000 
13,292.45 


Total    7,375,000 


135,168.75 


1  Probably  the  rest,  as  compared  with  the  figure  of  187  million 
poods  of  grain  and  grits  and  45  million  poods  fodder,  is  intended 
to  a  great  extent  to  feed  the  Red  Army.  Of  course,  the  arrears  of 
the  assessed  amounts  were  also  to  be  taken  in  consideration. 


230     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

It  is  explained  in  the  Economic  Life  of  October  18, 
1921,  from  which  these  figures  are  taken,  that  "the 
number  of  persons  supplied  by  the  State  has*  diminished 
three  tunes  by  comparison  with  the  preceding  year. 
Food  is  no  longer  to  be  supplied  to  the  non-working 
population  and  the  number  of  workmen  and  employees 
in  the  State  institutions  and  enterprises  has  been  de- 
creased." 

This  is  the  beginning  of  the  end.  The  "conscious 
minority,"  after  having  exhausted  the  resources  of  the 
country,  limit  the  circle  of  privileged  groups  per- 
mitted to  share  in  their  power  and  confine  the  func- 
tions of  the  Communist  State  to  the  strict  limit  of  run- 
ning its  own  machinery.  The  old  saying:  L'etat  c'est 
moi  of  the  King-Sun  of  France  is  now  undisguisedly 
made  a  motto  of  the  King-Red-Star.  If  left  to  itself 
the  Red  Star  will  last  as  long  as  there  will  be  some- 
thing to  sacrifice  and  to  sell  in  exchange  for  its  further 
existence.  Its  excuse  will  always  remain  the  same: 
waiting  for  the  great  World  Revolution. 

There  are  two  things  which  can  cut  short  that  long 
waiting.  One  is  the  changing  state  of  mind  of  the 
popular  masses.  We  have  noted  the  symptoms  of  that 
change  in  this  chapter.  But  this  is  the  political  side 
of  the  question.  I  purposely  confined  myself  hi  this 
chapter  to  the  economic  side, — to  the  state  of  the  eco- 
nomic resources  of  the  country.  There  is  a  limit  to 
their  exhaustion,  and  we  have  seen  how  this  limit  is 
being  gradually  reached.  Can  that  limit  be  over- 
stepped with  impunity?  Beyond  it  is  death  and  de- 
struction. Destruction  and  death  are  in  Russia.  The 
ghastly  summary  of  the  four  years  of  Soviet  domina- 
tion is  the  great  Russian  Famine  of  1921. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  FAMINE. 

The  year  1921  will  be  remembered  as  the  first  year 
of  the  great  Russian  Famine.  None  similar  to  it  can 
be  found  in  Russia's  history.  It  is  as  unparalleled  and 
unprecedented  as  the  events  that  caused  it. 

The  wide  extent  of  the  disaster  which  has  befallen 
Russia  can  be  seen  from  the  map.  I  have  purposely 
selected  this  one  because  it  represents  an  official  state- 
ment by  the  Soviet  Government.  It  was  presented  by 
Dr.  Nansen  at  the  second  session  of  the  League  of  Na- 
tions at  Geneva,  in  September,  1921,  on  his  coming 
back  from  Moscow.  As  the  map  covers  only  the  part 
of  European  Russia  directly  controlled  by  Moscow,  the 
Ukraine  is  not  included,  although  it  is  also  suffering 
from  poor  crops. 

The  Northwestern  part  of  Russia  (No.  8) — the  only 
part  which  has  connection  with  the  outer  world, 
through  the  Baltic  States — is  also  the  only  part  which 
had  the  average  or  normal  crops  of  51  poods  and  over 
of  cereals  from  a  "dessiatine,"  i.e.,  680  Ibs.  per  acre 
("pood"  =  about  36  Ibs.;  "dessiatine"  =  2.7  acres). 
But  this  does  not  mean  that  this  part  of  Russia  had 
surpluses  of  grain  to  dispose  of.  It  is  the  grain-import- 
ing region,  and  was  never  able  to  live  on  its  own  pro- 
duction of  cereals:  If  left  to  its  own  resources,  its 
population  is  bound  to  be  underfed. 

231 


232     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

The  Southeastern  part  of  Russia  is  its  grain-produc- 
ing and  exporting  region.  And  this  region  is  colored 
on  the  map  hi  black  of  different  shades.  This  is  the 
famine-stricken  area.  The  strip  which  includes  the 
spots  numbered  1,  2,  3,  4,  extends  beyond  the  frame  of 
this  map,  to  the  Ukraine  in  the  West  and  to  the  Asiatic 
provinces  in  the  East.  The  intensely  black  area  desig- 
nated by  1  is  the  basin  of  the  lower  Volga  and  Kama 
to  which  all  the  horrors  refer,  as  described  below.  The 
crops  were  here  less  than  one-tenth  of  the  average,  i.e., 
less  than  5  poods  per  dessiatine  (68  Ibs.  per  acre). 
Twice  this  amount  is  necessary  for  seed  only.  The 
minimum  annual  consumption  of  gram  on  which  a 
Russian  can  exist  (lacking  other  foodstuffs)  is  calcu- 
lated as  13.5  poods  (486  Ibs.) 

The  areas  designated  by  2  are  next  to  the  former 
ones:  their  production  was  less  than  one-fifth  of  the 
normal,  i.e.,  less  than  ten  poods  (136  Ibs.  per  acre). 
No.  3  and  No.  4  mark  areas  with  less  than  two-fifths 
of  normal  crops  and  Nos.  5,  6,  7 — less  than  three-fifths, 
four-fifths  and  the  normal. 

It  is  exceedingly  difficult  to  give  the  exact  figures 
as  to  just  how  much  grain  Russia  lacks  and  must  im- 
port. However,  one  thing  is  certain  and  admitted  by 
the  Bolsheviks  in  their  most  optimistic  estimates.  Rus- 
sia cannot  feed  herself  by  her  own  surpluses.  Even 
if  Russia's  entire  crop  could  be  equally  distributed 
among  the  whole  population  of  Russia,  the  population 
would  be  put  on  a  starvation  ration.  But  no  such 
equal  distribution  was  possible,  in  the  first  place,  be- 
cause such  surpluses  as  were  to  be  found  outside  the 
famine-stricken  area  were  badly  needed  by  the  Bol- 
sheviks themselves,  to  feed  their  army  and  their  of- 
ficials. In  the  second  place,  the  Bolshevist  official 


THE  FAMINE  233 

sources  admit  that  they  would  be  unable  to  transport 
the  necessary  grain  to  the  starvation  area.  Under  such 
conditions,  every  region  had  to  rely  on  its  own  resources. 

The  estimates  of  the  Soviet  authorities,  as  to  the 
total  figure  of  food-shortage  in  Russia,  generally  opti- 
mistic, varied  considerably  during  the  year.  At  the 
end  of  October,  the  Bolshevist  Central  Statistical  Bu- 
reau gave  the  following  figures  which  it  considered  as 
definitive.  The  famine-stricken  area  covers  more  than 
20,000,000  planted  dessiatines,  with  32,000,000  rural 
population  and  5,500,000  urban  inhabitants.  It  com- 
prises 41%  of  the  entire  planted  area  in  Russia,  33% 
of  the  rural  population  and  30%  of  the  urban  popu- 
lation. The  minimal  consumption  of  grain  is  estimated 
for  the  famine-stricken  area  as  240,000,000  poods,  and 
in  the  remaining  part  of  Russia  as  623,000,000  poods, 
— total  863,000,000.  But  production  is  respectively 
123,000,000  and  566,000,000  poods,  i.e.,  there  are  defi- 
cits in  both  parts  of  Russia  of  117,000,000  and  57,000,- 
000  poods,— total  174,000,000.  It  is  considered  that 
about  60%  of  this  amount  could  be  (theoretically)  cov- 
ered with  the  surpluses  of  production  in  the  Ukraine 
and  some  other  regions.  But  about  75,000,000  poods 
or  1,250,000  tons  would  have  to  be  imported  into  Rus- 
sia from  abroad.  This  last  figure  does  not  agree  with 
the  850,000  tons,  as  asked  by  the  Bolsheviks,  nor  with 
the  2,000,000  tons  as  mentioned  by  Mr.  Nansen.  As  a 
matter  of  fact  neither  can  be  really  imported  into 
Russia. 

Who  is  responsible  for  this  shortage  of  grain  and  this 
misery?  The  answer  of  the  Red  press  is  that  it  is  due 
to  the  state  of  exceptional  dryness  in  the  famine- 
stricken  area.  From  October  1,  1920,  to  the  end  of 
June,  1921,  the  rainfall  (including  the  snow)  was  only 


234     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

2.75  inches,  while  in  the  ten  previous  years  the  average 
rainfall  was  five  times  more — 14  inches.  The  greatest 
part  of  the  rain  fell,  moreover,  before  the  sprouts  ap- 
peared above  the  surface,  and  there  followed  an  ex- 
ceptionally early  thaw. 

This  is  quite  true.  But  it  is  not  quite  so  exceptional. 
This  part  of  Russia  is  periodically  exposed  to  dry  winds 
from,  the  Asiatic  deserts.  The  moving  sand  of  the  Asi- 
atic wilderness  gradually  advances  in  the  western  di- 
rection, pushed  by  the  winds.  However,  a  series  of 
measures  had  been  tried  in  the  past  by  the  Government 
and  by  the  Zemstvos  in  order  to  check  this  advance  and 
to  paralyze  the  detrimental  consequences  of  the  recur- 
rent dry  seasons  (which  regularly  last  for  two  or  three 
years  at  a  stretch,  when  they  come).  Perfected  meth- 
ods of  modern  agronomy  were  used,  such  as  dry  farm- 
ing, fastening  of  the  slopes  of  sandy  ravines,  planting 
of  trees,  etc. 

Not  only  have  all  these  methods  been  discontinued 
since  the  Bolshevist  domination,  but  even  the  normal 
resources  of  rural  economy  have  been  utterly  destroyed. 
The  import  of  agricultural  implements,  which  had  in- 
creased ten  times  for  the  last  twenty  years  before  the 
war,  has  practically  ceased,  while  the  local  manufacture 
has  been  unable  to  supply,  e.g.,  in  plows  even  10%  of 
what  has  had  to  be  scrapped  as  outworn.  The  monthly 
average  of  the  local  output  of  agricultural  implements 
— if  the  figures  for  1913  are  taken  as  the  hundred — 
represents  catastrophic  decay : 

1913  1919  1920  1921 

Ploughs   100  23.5  13.8  9.1 

Harrows 100  9.  5.2  2.7 

Reaping-machines   100  10.8  4.9  5. 

Threshing-machines 100  1.1  1.5  5. 


Winnowing-machines 100  17.8  8.          5. 

Scythes 100  124.  1012.      141. 

Reaping-hooks  100  52.8  29.5 

Chaff-cutters    100  37.  8.3 

Another  cause  of  deterioration  of  conditions  in  agri- 
culture is  the  decrease  in  the  number  of  live  stock,  due 
to  the  lack  of  fodder  and  to  the  policy  of  requisitions 
and  assessments  by  the  Soviet  authorities.  A  well- 
known  Russian  economist,  Mr.  Lositsky,  writing  in  a 
special  Bolshevist  organ  states  that  the  average  con- 
sumption of  meat  in  Russia  increased  from  0.82  pood 
per  capita  in  1918-19  to  0.91  in  1919-20  and  1.59  in  the 
winter  of  1920-21.  Cattle  were  slaughtered  in  abnor- 
mal quantities  owing  to  a  widespread  shortage  of  food 
and  fodder.  The  figures  given  by  the  official  Red  press 
for  December,  1920  and  February,  1921,  show  that  the 
number  of  horses  has  been  reduced  by  28.6  per  cent., 
compared  with  the  pre-war  situation  (Mr.  Maslov 
gives  the  figure  of  43  per  cent,  for  1916-1920) ;  the  num- 
ber of  horned  cattle  up  to  1920  had  been  reduced  by 
22  per  cent.  The  number  of  sheep  and  pigs  diminished 
between  1916  and  1920  respectively  by  29  and  40  per 
cent,  (other  economists  give  42  and  45  per  cent.).  At 
the  same  time,  the  composition  of  the  herds  is  danger- 
ously altered,  as  can  be  seen  from  the  following  figures 
(in  per  cent,  of  the  whole) : 

HORSES  HORNED  CATTLE 

Over  1  year  Under  4  Over  4  Calves  1-2  yrs.  Cows  Bulls 

towkg.      years      years  old               over  2 

Foals        age  years 

1916  ....  10          10.2           6.8           73  29.5        17.5      46.4      1.4 

1920  ....     7.4          7.2            7.4           78  20.5          8.7      68.6      0.5 

The  reduction  in  the  number  of  young  horses  and 


236     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

horned  cattle  will  make  the  replenishment  of  the  herds 
difficult  through  the  coming  years. 

The  amount  of  available  manure  diminished  pro- 
portionally to  the  decrease  in  the  number  of  the  live 
stock.  But  mineral  fertilizers,  which  were  being  im- 
ported into  Russia  in  increasing  quantities  (from  5.8 
million  poods  in  1889  to  35.3  million  poods  in  1912), 
are  completely  lacking  while  the  home  production  is 
too  trifling  to  meet  the  requirements.  The  intensity  of 
cultivation  has  declined  accordingly. 

To  a  certain  extent,  the  conditions  created  by  war 
and  by  revolution  account  for  all  the  phenomena  de- 
scribed. But  they  cannot  explain  the  continuing  decay 
of  agriculture  after  four  years  of  the  Bolshevist  regime. 
Just  how  far  the  regime  itself  is  responsible  can  be  es- 
pecially well  seen  from  the  gradual  decrease  of  the  area 
under  cultivation.  The  annual  "Narodnoye  Kho- 
zystvo"  for  1921,  published  by  the  Bolshevist  "Supreme 
Council  of  National  Economy,"  gives  a  general  picture 
of  that  process  which  can  serve  us  as  a  basis  for  further 
conclusions.  "The  area  under  crops,"  the  annual  states, 
"in  1916  was  certainly  reduced  as  compared  with  the 
pre-war  years.  .  .  .  The  former  Ministry  of  Agricul- 
ture estimated  its  decrease  in  1916  as  6  per  cent,  as 
compared  with  the  figures  of  1914.  .  .  .  The  Revolu- 
tion has  exerted  a  strong  influence  on  the  peasantry, 
by  effecting  a  shifting  in  its  ranks  and  by  giving  to  the 
peasants  the  land  of  the  former  landowners.  But  the 
agricultural  production,  taken  by  itself,  in  its  methods 
and  results,  has  remained  the  same  as  before.  This 
fact  is  to  a  great  extent  responsible  for  the  decrease  in 
the  area  actually  cultivated  by  the  peasants,  which  has 
been  going  on  since  1917.  The  census  of  1917,  which 
was  taken  in  conditions  in  which  both  the  influence  of 


THE  FAMINE  237 

the  war  and  that  of  the  beginning  of  the  Revolution 
(agrarian  disturbances)  had  found  their  expression, 
gave  an  area  under  crops  almost  equal  to  that  of  1916. 
In  the  23  provinces  we  are  comparing,  taking  the  area 
in  1916  as  100,  we  arrive  at  the  figure  97.5  for  1917." 
"In  1919  the  area  under  crops  was  greatly  reduced  as 
compared  with  1917,  the  decrease  amounting  to  16.4 
per  cent.  In  1920  the  decrease  proceeded  further,  and, 
if  13  provinces  may  be  regarded  as  a  fair  sample,  the 
coefficient  of  decrease  reached  27.3  per  cent."  The  de- 
crease in  the  seeds  for  1921  is  approximately  estimated 
as  13.4  per  cent,  of  the  area  of  1920. 

Now,  if  we  take  the  planted  area  of  1914,  the  last 
normal  year,  as  100,  the  progressive  diminution  of  the 
area  cultivated  will  express  itself  in  the  following  fig- 
ures: 

1914        1916        1917        1919        1920        1921 
100          94  91.6         74.4         58.9          51 

We  see  that  the  factors  of  war  (1916)  and  revolution 
(1917)  were  not  decisive,  and  that  the  really  catas- 
trophic change  came  as  a  result  of  the  Bolshevist  policy, 
as  described  in  a  previous  chapter  (VII).  The  famine 
began  as  early  as  1919  and  1920,  with  the  shrinking 
of  the  planted  area  to  three-fourths  and  two-fifths  of 
its  normal  size.  It  fell  down  to  the  half  of  the  area 
planted  before  the  war  in  1921.  Under  such  a  condi- 
tion, shortage  of  food  has  become  an  inevitable  con- 
sequence, even  if  there  were  good  crops  in  Russia. 
The  worst  of  it  is  that  this  situation  is  bound  to  last 
as  long  as  the  causes  that  brought  it  about  last.  Famine 
has  become  endemic  in  Russia. 

A  Russian  eye-witness  of  Tatar  descent  who  saw 
the  origin  of  the  disaster  at  one  of  the  places  where  it 


238    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

is  at  its  worst,  in  the  so-called  "Tatar  Republic,"  i.e., 
in  the  Kazan  Province  on  the  Volga,  thus  testifies  to 
its  connection  with  the  Bolshevist  policy  of  requisition- 
ing grain.1  "The  cause  of  the  poor  crops  is,  of  course, 
an  unprecedented  heat  and  dryness.  .  .  .  But  the  rea- 
son why  these  poor  crops  brought  on  a  famine  which 
menaces  the  lives  of  millions  is  that  in  the  last  year 
grain  was  requisitioned  with  unheard-of  severity  in  the 
Volga  region,  and  the  agents  received  special  thanks 
from  the  'Central  Committee'  for  having  collected  170 
per  cent,  of  the  amount  assessed. ...  It  was  a  real  orgy. 
The  whole  area  of  the  Tatar  Republic  at  the  time  of  the 
requisition  looked  like  a  conquered  country  delivered  as 
booty  to  the  victorious  soldiers.  Violence,  looting,  brib- 
ery, orgies  of  drunken  commissaries,  night  visits  to 
private  houses,  arrests  and  shots  and  what  not  were 
daily  occurrences.  They  left  the  peasants  from  their 
crops  of  1920  an  amount  of  food  barely  sufficient  to 
sustain  life  until  the  next  crops  on  starvation  rations. 
In  fact,  the  peasant  could  feed  on  that  grain  only  until 
the  spring,  1921.  Even  thus  he  had  to  consume  a  part 
of  his  seed  reserve,  and  as  a  result  almost  40  per  cent. 
of  the  summer  fields  remained  unsown.  You  probably 
think  that  the  famine  began  on  the  Volga  only  in 
July  or  even  in  August.  This  is  not  true.  The  famine 
has  been  raging  with  us  from  the  very  spring.  It  is 
only  the  panics,  the  'migration  of  peoples'  that  began 
in  June.  At  that  moment  the  last  ray  of  hope  of  get- 
ting good  crops  this  year  was  lost,  wells  and  lakes  had 
dried  up,  fields  and  meadows  transformed  themselves 
into  continuous  sunburnt  yellow  steppes,  and  whole 
herds  of  cattle  had  begun  to  die.  .  .  .  Pictures  and 

*A  personal  letter,  written  at  the  end  of  September,  1921,  after 
the  author  thereof  escaped  from  Bolshevist  Russia. 


THE  FAMINE  239 

correspondence  from  the  famine-stricken  provinces  are 
all  true,  but  they  do  not  reflect  the  hundredth  part  of 
the  real  horrors,  and  the  correspondents,  much  honored 
and  closely  observed  by  the  Bolshevist  authorities,  can- 
not discover  the  hidden  corners  and  heartrending  scenes 
of  actual  life." 

This  criticism  is  not  quite  justified,  as  in  the  corre- 
spondences of  Mr.  Bechhofer  in  the  London  Times,  Mr. 
Gibbs  in  the  Chicago  Tribune,  and  in  the  articles  and 
reports  of  Mr.  Hoover's  representatives  and  agents 
one  can  find  descriptions  which  give  an  adequate  im- 
pression of  the  Russian  distress.  But  a  Russian  can 
see  the  same  things  from  a  different  angle  and  has  the 
inside  view  which  may  be  lacking  with  a  foreigner. 
To  complete  the  picture  drawn  by  foreign  correspond- 
ents, let  me  quote  from  the  Russian  sources,  and  chiefly 
from  the  Red  papers  published  in  Bolshevist  Russia. 

Here  is  a  picture  of  that  "migration  of  peoples"  at 
its  initial  state,  when  no  help  was  forthcoming  and  no 
foreign  correspondents  had  been  able  to  reach  the  suf- 
fering regions.  I  quote  from  the  same  letter  of  my 
Moslem  witness,  which  was  not  intended  for  publica- 
tion. 

"As  early  as  the  end  of  June,  1921,  the  streets  and  squares 
of  Kazan,  as  well  as  the  strip  of  land  4^  miles  long  between 
the  city  and  the  pier,  were  packed  by  the  starving  crowd. 
The  police  gave  up  all  attempts  to  disperse  them,  and  indeed 
there  was  no  place  where  they  could  go.  Starving  people 
were  literally  lying  everywhere  with  their  children  and  their 
sick:  they  could  be  shot  but  not  removed.  They  lay  pros- 
trate for  days,  nay,  for  weeks.  After  having  eaten  up  all 
they  had  brought  with  them  and  sold  put  everything  they 
possessed,  they  besieged  the  Bolshevist  institutions,  begging 
for  food  and  permits  to  go  further.  After  a  while  some  of 
them  died  in  the  same  places,  on  the  street.  The  remain- 
ing ones  gradually  disappeared,  nobody  knew  where.  New 


240     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

crowds  were  pouring  into  the  town,  taking  their  places  in 
the  streets,  lying  down,  or  dying,  or  going  away  in  their 
turn.  A  human  corpse  on  the  streets  of  Kazan  became  a 
familiar  appearance  and  it  no  longer  frightened  any  one. 
We  stepped  over  them  without  minding  it.  It  is  only  here 
(outside  Russia)  that  I  came  to  my  senses,  and  I  now  can- 
not dispel  that  vision.  It  seems  to  me  as  if  they  were  still 
lying  in  the  same  places,  men,  women,  children,  side  by  side. 
When  I  went  out  at  the  end  of  June  to  the  pier,  the  meadows 
between  the  river  and  the  town  presented  a  continuous  black 
mass  of  people  for  weeks  awaiting  their  turn  for  a  place  on 
the  steamer.  They  lay  days  and  nights  in  the  open  fields; 
the  sun  burnt  pitilessly,  the  hot  wind  raised  clouds  of  dry 
dust,  and  they  drank  water  from  a  putrid  swamp  nearby. 
...  It  was  an  endless  open-air  hospital  with  cobblestones 
or  filthy  earth  beneath  them,  instead  of  beds,  with  rags, 
dirty  sacks  and  pieces  of  bast,  instead  of  blankets.  Most 
of  them  purposely  passed  their  time  lying  down,  to  quell 
their  pains  of  hunger  and  not  to  be  forced  to  take  food  too 
often.  But  many  were  unable  to  get  up  because  they  were 
ill.  Some  had  the  convulsions  of  cholera,  and  such  as  died 
from  cholera  continued  to  lie  in  then"  places. 

"I  cannot  describe  the  scenes  of  free  fights,  of  children 
and  sick  trodden  down  under  the  feet  at  the  entrance  to  the 
steamer.  Many  thousands  pressed  for  places,  and  our 
steamer  was  packed  beyond  its  limit.  It  did  not  stop  at  the 
following  landing  stations,  as  everywhere  it  was  the  same 
crowd  of  thousands  of  people  waiting  and  the  same  night- 
mare would  repeat  itself.  One  could  not  move  on  the  docks. 
There  starving  people  covered  with  rags  lay  even-where. 
They  ate  a  kind  of  stale  black  bread  prepared  from  a  mix- 
ture of  acorn  and  seeds  of  orach,  roots  and  grass.  On  the 
ninth  day,  when  we  were  reaching  Perm  (another  provincial 
city  up  the  Kama  River),  not  more  than  twenty  people 
(besides  the  crew)  were  moving  about.  All  the  others  .lay 
in  their  places,  like  dead.  Corpses  were  regularly  thrown 
into  the  water  in  the  night  tune.  In  Perm  the  picture  was 
the  same:  the  pier,  the  station,  the  streets  and  squares  filled 
with  a  starving  crowd  in  rags,  waiting  for  a  train  to  go  to 
Siberia  .  .  . 

"I  recollect  very  well  the  famine  of  1891.    At  that  time 


THE  FAMINE  241 

there  were  no  dreadful  scenes  and  no  unheard-of  panics. 
The  population  waited  quietly  for  help  and  believed  that 
help  would  come.  Now  they  do  not  believe  anybody,  they 
are  in  complete  despair  and  suspect  lies  and  mockery  every- 
where. .  .  .  The  commissars  declared  in  the  villages  that 
other  States  far  from  sending  help  wish  Russia  to  starve, 
as  they  are  ruled  by  capitalists.  .  .  .  And  the  peasant  does 
not  expect  the  grain  to  come  from  anywhere." 

Such  was  the  situation  in  June,  1921.  No  local  help 
and  no  help  in  sight,  either  from  within  or  from  outside 
of  Russia.  Under  normal  conditions  there  were  store- 
houses filled  with  grain  in  every  village  community. 
Now  most  of  these  storehouses  were  empty.  In  the 
past  there  were  good  ways  of  communication,  good 
crops  elsewhere  and  good  people  ready  to  help.  Now 
the  ways  of  communication  are  completely  broken 
down,  crops  are  insufficient  everywhere  and  no  public 
opinion  is  permitted  to  organize  to  work  for  relief  inde- 
pendently from  the  Bolshevist  authorities.  The  popu- 
lation is  purposely  kept  in  the  dark  and  consciously 
misled  as  to  the  feelings  of  the  "bourgeois"  world 
towards  the  "proletarian"  Republic.  Under  such  condi- 
tions, nothing  could  be  expected,  indeed,  and  the  peas- 
ants took  to  the  ancient  Russian  recourse  in  times  of 
utter  despair:  to  flight  from  their  homes. 

Of  course,  not  all  could  afford  it.  Only  such  as  had 
something  to  sell,  as  still  possessed  a  horse  and  a  car- 
riage, were  able  to  take  their  families  with  them,  to 
shut  the  doors  and  the  windows  of  their  houses,  and 
to  go.  Where  to?  They  did  not  know  that  them- 
selves. They  went  to  the  East,  to  Siberia,  the  rich 
country  and  the  last  to  be  exhausted.  They  went  to  the 
Southeast,  to  Turkestan:  they  had  heard  that  some- 
where beyond  there  was  an  "Indian  king"  who  might 
help  them.  They  went  to  the  Northwest,  to  big  cities, 


242    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

to  Moscow,  in  the  first  place,  because  there  was  a 
Government  there  which  must  know.  They  also  went 
to  the  Western  frontier,  to  meet  "the  Americans" :  the 
Amecican  help — the  only  one  that  was  not  a  mere  illu- 
sion and  did  not  delude  them.  .  .  . 

But  it  took  time  for  the  American  help  to  come. 
In  the  meantime,  the  "migration  of  peoples"  con- 
tinues. The  peasants  go  in  crowds,  in  long  files  of 
vehicles.  They  fill  up  the  roads.  The  same  dreadful 
scenes  repeat  themselves  as  they  go.  Days  and  weeks 
pass,  all  supplies  are  consumed,  and  there  is  no  more 
fodder  for  the  horse.  The  horse  dies  on  the  way  and 
the  whole  starving  family  is  left  alone  in  the  midst  of 
that  endless  strip  of  a  road  that  leads  nowhere.  The 
father  tries  to  find  some  food  in  the  neighboring  village. 
But  the  local  population  is  hostile,  as  their  own  reserves 
are  scant  and  it  is  no  good  to  share  them  with  new- 
comers. The  reasoning  is  the  same  as  that  heard  by 
Mr.  Goodrich  from  a  peasant  in  the  Samara  Province. 
"There  is  not  enough  to  keep  us  alive  until  next  har- 
vest. So  if  we  divide  up  now  and  do  not  get  help,  we 
shall  all  starve  to  death.  It  is  better  that  some  should 
die  hi  order  that  others  may  live."  The  words  of  hor- 
rible realism  are  followed  by  acts.  The  peasants  of  the 
villages  along  the  highways  arm  themselves  and  ward 
off  any  one  asking  for  food.  The  road  is  thus  turned 
into  a  solitude  in  the  midst  of  densely  peopled  regions, 
and  the  Caravan  of  Death  is  left  to  go  its  way  of  perdi- 
tion. If  it  succeeds  in  reaching  a  provincial  town,  in  the 
direction  of  Moscow,  Red  soldiers  wait  for  the  starving 
crowd ;  the  towns  are  entrenched  as  for  a  regular  siege. 
The  soldiers  fire  at  the  approaching  crowd.  .  .  . 

The  father  thus  comes  back  helpless  to  the  eagerly 
waiting  family.  He  has  not  found  any  food.  The 


THE  FAMINE  243 

mother,  the  grandmother,  the  children  lie  flat  in  their 
carriage.  They  are  too  sick  to  feel  any  emotion.  Si- 
lently, noiselessly,  they  die  one  by  one,  and  off  he  goes 
on  foot  and  alone,  from  the  place  of  his  catastrophe. 

The  great  majority,  the  rank  and  file,  are  too  poor 
to  try  their  escape  in  flight.  They  remain  in  the  village. 
Let  us  go  there.  This  is  a  description — one  of  the  many 
— which  I  take  from  a  Bolshevist  newspaper.  It  is  the 
Samara  Province  and  district,  the  village  of  Semeykino, 
in  August,  1921.  "It  is  so  silent  now  in  the  Russian 
village.  There  is  something  solemn  in  this  sinister 
silence.  We  lift  our  hats,  as  if  in  the  presence  of  death. 
And  indeed,  death  is  in  the  streets,  death  is  in  the  ham- 
lets. The  people  speak  in  whispers.  Men  and  women 
wear  clean  holiday  shirts,  and  all  the  houses  are 
cleansed.  They  walk  about  the  streets  in  silent  medi- 
tation, as  if  without  protest,  in  fatalistic  submission  to 
their  fate.  They  are  marching  to  the  encounter  with 
death.  They  have  even  calculated  the  exact  time  when 
death  will  come.  'We  now  feed  on  grass  and  on  birch 
tree  leaves.  But  soon  the  frost  will  strike.  By  the  old 
style  the  grass-eating  will  come  to  an  end  on  the  14th 
(29)  of  September.  There  will  be  no  leaves  then. 
Well,  we  may  somehow  hold  on  as  late  as  the  beginning 
of  November.  But  later  on  we  all  shall  have  to  die. 
Before  Christmas  every  one  of  us  will  be  buried  in  the 
graves.' '  In  the  spring  of  1922,  Semeykino  (the  word 
means  "little  family")  will  be  empty. 

"Where  are  your  people?"  another  Bolshevist  corre- 
spondent asks  his  driver,  as  in  August  he  enters  Ivan- 
ovka,  in  the  Pugachov  district  of  the  Samara  govern- 
ment. "Have  they  all  died?"  The  idea  is  suggested 
by  the  abandoned  houses  on  the  outskirts,  witK  their 
straw  roofs  torn  off  for  fodder.  "Well,"  the  driver  an- 


244    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

swers,  "why  should  they  walk  about?  They  have 
enough  of  walking,  with  that  grass-eating.  They 
mostly  lie  down.  Let  us  go  to  the  church ;  there  will 
be  some  people  there."  And  indeed,  round  Father  Paul, 
the  village  priest,  there  is  a  small  gathering.  "It  is 
difficult  for  them  to  walk,"  he  confirms;  "they  are, 
as  you  see,  all  exhausted  to  the  limit.  Most  of  them 
have  swollen  legs;  they  walk  on  sticks  and  they  reel. 
But  to-day  they  have  come  because  they  have  heard 
of  your  coming."  Maybe,  help  will  come?  "It  is  time 
to  help  us,  otherwise  there  will  be  no  starving  people, 
but  dying  only.  Two  hundred  have  already  died  from 
starvation  in  our  village;  two  of  them  just  died  to- 
day." They  tell  him  their  story.  The  underfeeding 
began  at  Easter  time  (end  of  March).  But  there  were 
hopes  for  good  crops.  Week  after  week  they  were 
waiting  for  rain,  but  in  vain  were  all  prayers.  There 
was  a  drought.  Instead  of  200  poods  from  a  dessiatine, 
they  finally  expected  to  collect  20  or  30.  But  there 
came  locusts.  "Probably,  God  is  against  us."  they  de- 
cided. Father  Paul  would  know,  and  they  asked  him: 
"Tell  us,  Father  Paul,  is  this  really  the  end?  Just  tell 
us  that  we  may  know  in  advance."  "Is  it  not  a  quiet 
people?"  the  correspondent  remarked.  "Well,  you  see 
for  yourself:  they  are  just  like  wet  rags;  you  will  hear 
no  sound  from  them." 

However,  they  have  their  own  way  of  passive  pro- 
test. Here  is  another  church  gathering  in  Sarapul,  a 
district  town  on  the  Kama  River.  The  background  is 
always  the  same.  Babies  with  swollen  bellies,  mothers 
trying  to  suckle  them  with  breasts  void  of  milk,  wom- 
en's cries  and  lamentations,  men  clad  in  sacks  imploring 
for  alms — in  vain;  dead  horses  lying  in  ditches  along 
the  road,  in  complete  decomposition,  full  of  worms. 


THE  FAMINE  245 

Doctors  walk  around  looking  perplexed,  with  no  drugs 
and  at  a  loss  as  to  what  can  be  done.  Red  guards  and 
secret  police  agents  listen  to  the  people's  talk,  ill-tem- 
pered and  thrown-off  the  scent.  Carriages  filled  up 
with  corpses  move  slowly  along  the  streets;  the  thin 
and  yellow  legs  of  the  deceased  shake  queerly  in  rhythm 
with  the  jerks  of  the  wheels.  A  priest  in  surplice  goes 
among  that  mournful  gathering  and  hastily  performs 
ritual  ceremonies  for  the  dying  members  of  the  com- 
munity. The  bells  of  the  church  tinkle,  tremulous 
and  uncertain.  On  the  porch  a  little  old  man  with 
scraggly  beard  speaks  to  the  peasant  crowd  in  sub- 
dued whispers.  "To  death  you  will  come,  where- 
ever  you  go!  Yes,  to  death!  All  will  die.  Have 
you  ever  seen  how  wolves  run  from  the  forest  fire, 
how  bears  walk  about  in  the  villages'?  Well, 
they  run  for  their  lives.  Now,  you,  brethren,  you  beg- 
gars, where  do  you  mean  to  go?  I  say  unto  you:  You 
will  not  run  away,  no, — not  run  away  from  death!  0 
God,  0  my  Lord :  Hast  Thou  not  designated  our  hour? 
Who  are  we  to  escape  Thine  hour,  0  Lord?  And  thou, 
O  soul  of  man:  Why  dost  thou  toss  about?  Dost 
thou  not  know  where  thy  limit  is  laid?  Fire  in  the 
wood,  fire  in  the  sky,  fire  in  the  heart,  fire  in  the  hut. 
.  .  .  Let  us  burn  in  the  fire,  brethren,  let  us  burn! 
Comets  will  rise  in  heaven  and  stars  will  fall  down  to 
earth.  Void  and  empty  has  the  Russian  land  become. 
Let  us  burn  in  fire,  brethren,  let  us  burn!" 

There  is  a  curious  parallel  between  this  propaganda 
of  self-burning  and  that  which  was  carried  on  at  the 
end  of  the  XVII  Century  by  fanatic  priests  among  the 
persecuted  sectarians.  Thousands  burnt  themselves  in 
their  houses  or  on  wood  piles,  saving  their  souls  from 
the  life  which  had  become  unbearable.  This  old  form 


246    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

of  Russian  passive  protest  has  been  revived.  The  cor- 
respondent just  quoted,  while  leaving  Sarapul,  drew  at- 
tention to  an  ash-heap  at  the  side  of  the  road.  The 
driver  told  him  that  this  had  been  a  chapel.  The  in- 
habitants of  a  village  nearby  had  all  fled  away.  The 
few  that  were  unable  to  go  shut  themselves  up  in  the 
chapel  and  set  fire  to  it.  "People  say  they  were  singing 
songs, — namely,  in  the  fire.  .  .  .  Probably,  psalms," 
the  driver  commented.  Obviously,  the  old  man  on  the 
porch  of  the  church  did  not  preach  in  vain.  .  .  . 

There  have  been  also  other  methods  of  collective 
suicide.  Sometimes,  whole  families  have  locked  them- 
selves in  their  houses,  shut  chimney  and  window  open- 
ings, filled  the  house  with  smoke  and  suffocated  them- 
selves. Sometimes  mothers  with  children  have 
drowned  themselves  in  rivers.  My  Moslem  witness 
mentions  an  instance  of  an  old  woman  with  her  little 
granddaughter.  The  woman  wrapped  herself  in  a 
shroud,  took  her  Koran  and  went  to  a  minaret  of  a 
mosque.  After  a  week  both  corpses  were  found  there 
in  a  state  of  decomposition.  .  .  . 

"When  will  the  help  come?  Will  it  not  be  too  late? 
Will  these  starving  people  live  long  enough  to  be  able 
to  make  use  of  it?"  These  questions  are  anxiously  put 
to  every  one  who  visits  the  famine-stricken  area.  The 
unvarnished  truth  is  that  there  is  no  answer  to  that 
question,  except  that  millions  will  die — are  sure  to  die 
— before  help  can  be  given.  But  "millions"  is  a  figure, 
and  figures  do  not  speak.  Let  me  give  you  one  single 
instance  to  bring  home  the  whole  meaning  of  that 
merciless  truth.  I  take  the  picture  again  from  a  Bol- 
shevist correspondence.  We  are  at  Samara,  at  the  rail- 
way station.  In  the  first-class  dining-room  there  is  ex- 
quisite food,  everything  you  like  to  order,  tasty  white 


THE  FAMINE  247 

bread,  steaks,  pork  chops,  wine,  ice-cream,  fruits,  long 
tables  covered  with  snow-white  linen,  flowers  in  vases 
of  crystal.  But  this  is  for  the  commissars  and  "specu- 
lators," the  nouveaux-riches.  A  few  feet  away  there 
is  that  human  cloaca  known  to  us,  with  its  unbearable 
stink  of  foul  clothes  and  half-dead  corpses,  covered  with 
black  dust  and  clouds  of  flies,  one  mass  of  filth,  rags 
and  refuse.  On  that  background,  here  is  the  picture: 

"Under  the  very  windows  of  our  railway  car  starving 
children  are  lying  day  and  night,  and  all  the  day  and  all 
night  long  you  hear  one  single  endless  call:  'Give  us  bread, 
little  uncle!'  A  girl  is  dying  just  here,  under  nay  window. 
She  is  about  sixteen,  a  good-looking  girl,  thin  and  well 
shaped.  She  lies  on  her  back,  with  closed  eyes.  Now  and 
then  she  opens  her  eyes,  for  a  few  minutes,  and  she  stares 
at  the  sky,  with  her  immovable,  deadly  gaze.  When  in  the 
morning  I  get  up  and  look  out  she  is  there,  in  the  same  pos- 
ture, clad  in  black,  pale-faced,  with  her  eyes  shut,  with 
arms  folded  on  her  breast.  When  in  the  evening  I  come 
back,  she  is  always  there,  as  immovable  as  before.  I  bring 
her  bread  and  milk.  She  does  not  want  it — nay,  she  cannot 
eat.  I  try  to  persuade  her.  She  half-opens  her  eyes,  she 
looks  at  me  with  an  absent-minded,  unearthly  glance.  I 
wish  to  lift  her  and  to  bring  her  into  the  car.  It  seems  to 
toe  that  she  can  still  be  saved.  She  does  not  say  anything. 
But  she  throws  at  me  an  imploring  glance,  as  if  she  were 
saying:  'Do  not  touch  me;  let  me  die.'  This  glance 
frightens  me;  I  flee  away.  I  become  frightened  and  I  am 
afraid  of  being  left  alone  with  the  dying  girl.  .  .  .  But  I 
cannot  sleep.  The  night  passes  away,  and  it  seems  to  me 
as  if  I  dreamt  nightmare  dreams.  I  want  to  get  up.  A  long, 
clear  star-lit  night  that  never  ends.  Shall  I  go  out,  look  at 
her?  I  am  too  much  frightened.  ...  At  daybreak  I  run  to 
the  town  in  search  of  a  doctor.  Maybe  I  can  save  her. 
After  three  hours  of  running  from  one  hospital  to  another, 
I  finally  find  a  student  associated  with  a  mission  for  combat- 
ting epidemics. — 'Hurry  up,  doctor!' — We  drag  along  to  the 
station.  We  have  come.  'Hurry  up,  doctor!'  We  run  to  my 


248     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

car.  She  lies  there,  in  the  same  posture,  immovable,  with 
closed  eyes,  with  thin,  pale,  little  childish  hands  crossed  on 
her  breast.  The  student  bows  to  her,  takes  her  hand.  .  .  . 
She  is  dead.  She  died  about  half  an  hour  ago!  ..." 

It  is  especially  children  that  cannot  wait  and  fall 
the  first  victims.  Their  mothers  cannot  bear  their  suf- 
ferings. They  kill  them,  they  drown  them  in  the  rivers, 
they  die  together  in  the  smoke  of  their  locked  huts, — or 
they  leave  them  alone  on  the  streets  and  before  the 
doors  of  the  Soviet  institutions.  In  the  streets  of  Sa- 
mara two  hundred  children  have  been  picked  up  daily, 
abandoned  by  their  parents.  In  the  streets  of  the 
town  of  Ufa  150  children  are  being  picked  up  daily, 
abandoned  by  their  parents.  As  to  the  general  number 
of  children  starving,  the  following  figures  were  given 
by  the  Bolsheviks  in  the  autumn,  1921 :  300,000  chil- 
dren in  the  Chuvash  Republic;  1,500,000  in  the  Tatar 
Republic;  over  500,000  in  the  Ufa  Province;  800,000  in 
the  Province  of  Simbirsk.  "According  to  official  data, 
there  are  at  present  (September,  1921)  no  less  than 
9,500,000  starving  children  in  Russia."  The  figure 
may  seem  exaggerated.  It  is  at  any  rate  exaggerated 
for  to-day,  as  the  mortality  has  been  too  great  for  this 
number  of  children  to  be  still  among  the  living.  A 
Bolshevist  report  published  in  October,  1921,  at  Berlin, 
states  that  "the  mortality  in  some  cases  is  as  high  as  75 
per  cent.  Cholera,  dysentery  and  typhus  prevail,  in 
addition  to  the  horrors  of  starvation.  Children's  homes 
are  often  characterized  as  "ante-chambers  of  death." 

To  take  an  instance,  this  is  a  description  of  one  of 
these  children's  homes  in  Samara  (previous  to  Ameri- 
can relief),  by  Mr.  Mark  Krinitsky,  a  Bolshevist  cor- 
respondent. 


THE  FAMINE  249 

"Alongside  the  wall  some  ten  little  children's  bodies 
lay  on  bare  wooden  boards  without  any  bedding,  clad 
in  skirts  alone.  Their  glassy  eyes  looked  mournful  and 
hopeless.  Their  thin  hands  and  legs  looked  like  sticks 
with  knots  at  the  joints.  The  tightened  skin  of  their 
old-looking  faces  bore  the  stamp  of  death.  A  nurse 
bowed  carefully  over  each  one  hi  turn  to  drive  off  the 
greedy,  sticky  'dead  house'  flies,  sticking  round  their 
immovable  victims.  ...  It  was  still  worse  in  the  next 
room.  If  5  to  10  per  cent,  of  these  children  will  live  on, 
it  will  be  a  good  result,  says  the  superintendent  of  this 
cemetery  of  children." 

At  last  the  help  comes.  But  it  is  not  sufficient  to 
satisfy  everybody.  It  will  take  much  time  and  patience 
until  experiences  like  the  following  one  are  no  more 
repeated.  I  take  it  from  a  Bolshevst  periodical.  The 
correspondent  writes  from  the  station  of  Buzuluk,  Prov- 
ince of  Samara. 

"A  grievous,  intolerable,  soul-shattering  moaning. 
Our  railway-carriage  is  besieged  on  all  sides.  People 
strive  to  clamber  in  at  the  windows  and  the  doors.  The 
children  climb  up  like  cats,  lose  their  hold  and  fall. 
Bony  hands  at  all  apertures,  accompanied  by  terrible, 
inhuman  cries:  'Bread,  for  God's  sake,  bread!  Save 
us,  help  us!' 

"We  attempt  to  give  them  bread,  but  scarcely  have 
we  reached  it  out,  when  hundreds  of  hands  clutch  at 
us,  pull  us  this  way  and  that,  with  terrible  cries.  We 
try  to  give  something  to  the  children,  but  the  adults 
push  them  aside,  striking  and  biting  one  another. 
Their  eyes,  especially  those  of  children,  are  unnaturally 
bright.  They  no  longer  bear  the  semblance  of  children, 
but  of  aged  infants.  Their  dried-up  skin  is  drawn 


250     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

tight  over  their  prominent  bones.  Their  faces  are 
wrinkled,  their  eyes  feverish.  Some  of  them  have  lost 
their  voices  and  can  only  move  their  lips. 

"The  starving  number  hundreds,  thousands.  I  tried 
to  arrange  them  in  some  kind  of  queue  so  as  to  give 
each  one  something,  if  only  a  bit.  But  they  were  mad 
with  hunger  and  each  man  feared  he  would  get  nothing. 
If  they  see  food,  the  starving  tear  it  out  of  your  hands 
by  force.  Here  is  an  emaciated  little  boy  of  eight,  so 
weak  he  can  scarcely  stand.  One  of  the  passengers  at- 
tempts to  give  him  an  egg,  when  suddenly  hundreds 
like  him  make  their  appearance  and  with  cries  and 
tears  rush  on  the  passenger,  and  in  one  moment  the 
egg  is  broken  into  atoms." 

The  real  help  has  come  with  the  A.  R.  A.  (American 
Relief  Administration).  A  private  organization,  work- 
ing since  the  armistice  under  the  chairmanship  of  Mr. 
Herbert  Hoover  and  with  the  financial  support  of  the 
United  States  Government,  the  A.  R.  A.  has  saved  the 
lives  of  about  2,000,000  undernourished  children  hi  the 
Baltic  States,  Poland,  Czecho-Slovakia.  Austria  and 
Hungary.  It  was  decided  by  Mr.  Hoover  and  his  chief 
assistants  to  make  use  of  the  great  experience  acquired 
by  the  personnel  of  the  Administration  and  of  the  funds 
available,  to  give  the  starving  Russian  children  a  daily 
meal  of  the  food  value  of  about  800  calories.  A  satis- 
factory agreement  was  signed  at  Riga  with  the  Soviet 
Commissary.  Mr.  Litvinov,  as  early  as  August  20.  1921. 
The  A.  R.  A.  reserved  for  itself  complete  independence 
from  the  Bolshevist  authorities  and  free  disposal  of  its 
supplies,  while  the  means  of  transportation  and  the 
necessary  premises  for  feeding  were  to  be  provided  by 
the  local  authorities.  The  first  food  train  arrived  in 
Kazan  on  September  17.  and  others  to  Samara,  Sim- 


THE  FAMINE  251 

birsk,  Saratov  followed  rapidly.  By  November  1  over 
202,000  children  were  being  fed,  and  by  December  1 
the  number  had  reached  750,000.  The  limit  was  to 
be  1,200,000,  which  was  to  be  reached  in  January,  1922. 
By  the  end  of  1921,  35,000  tons  of  food  had  been  sent 
from  America.  But  now  help  is  to  be  further  extended, 
including  the  adults,  thanks  to  President  Harding's 
recommendation  in  his  annual  message  to  Congress  on 
December  6,  for  an  appropriation  to  supply  the  A.  R.  A. 
with  10,000,000  bushels  of  corn  and  1,000,000  bushels 
of  seed  grains  for  the  famine  victims  in  the  valley  of 
the  Volga.  Governor  James  P.  Goodrich,  of  Indiana, 
who  had  just  returned  from  a  visit  to  the  famine- 
stricken  area,  told  the  Congress  that  the  proposed  ap- 
propriation must  be  doubled,  to  satisfy  the  need.  He, 
proposed  to  send  to  Russia  20,000,000  bushels  of  corn 
and  5,000,000  bushels  of  wheat.  $20,000,000  was  ap- 
propriated by  Congress  on  December  24,  1921.  Thus 
the  limit  was  reached  of  what  Mr.  Hoover  thought  it 
possible  to  transport  to  the  starving  area  during  the 
next  six  months,  taking  the  probable  capacity  of  the 
railways  from  the  two  ports  of  Riga  and  Novorossiisk 
that  were  available  (100,000  tons  or  6,000,000  poods 
a  month).  Of  course,  it  is  not  the  limit  of  Russia's 
need,  as  may  be  concluded  from  a  comparison  with  the 
figures  given  above.  What  are  the  other  resources,  if 
any?  What  can  the  Soviet  Government  do,  to  cope 
with  the  famine? 

Of  course,  the  official  version  of  the  Bolsheviks  was 
that  the  "capitalistic"  governments  want  Russia  to 
starve,  and  that  the  real  help  can  only  be  given  by  the 
international  proletariat,  directly  or  under  their  pres- 
sure. Thus  the  famine  could  be  made  use  of  for  the 
world  propaganda.  But  this  was  for  the  gallery.  At 


252    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

the  same  time,  behind  the  scenes  the  question  of  an 
international  loan  to  be  given  to  the  repentant  Bolshe- 
vism was  being  discussed  in  London,  and  probably  else- 
where. The  aim  of  the  loan  was  to  be — economic  re- 
construction, useful  and  necessary  to  any  future 
government  in  Russia.  Would  the  question  of  the 
famine  promote  or  hamper  the  question  of  a  loan? 
The  first  idea  of  the  Bolshevist  Government  was  to 
simplify  the  situation  by  denying  the  facts  of  the 
famine.  But  soon  it  became  impossible.  An  old  Rus- 
sian organization,  the  Agronomic  Society  in  Moscow, 
met  on  June  22,  1921,  and  decided  to  draw  the  atten- 
tion of  the  Soviet  Government  to  the  terrible  situation 
of  the  Volga  population.  The  second  thought  of  the 
Government  was  to  use  the  prominent  non-Bolshevik 
members  of  the  Agronomic  Society  as  mediators  in 
their  negotiations  with  Western  Europe.  On  July  23, 
an  All-Russian  Relief  Committee  was  organized  by  the 
Bolsheviks.  Mr.  Kishkin  and  Prokopovich,  former 
ministers  of  the  Kerensky  Government;  Mr.  Golovin, 
the  President  of  the  Second  Duma,  with  some  other 
non-Bolsheviks,  were  invited  to  join  the  committee. 
"For  the  first  time  after  four  years,"  as  Mr.  Kishkin 
said  in  his  introductory  speech,  "the  representatives  of 
the  governing  power  have  met  the  representatives  of 
non-official  circles  in  order  to  start,  in  common  accord, 
on  a  work  of  national  and  social  significance."  The 
character  and  the  real  causes  of  the  disaster  were  stated 
openly  in  the  same  speech.  "The  famine,"  Mr.  Kishkin 
stated,  "has  been  aggravated  by  the  deep  and  general 
crisis  in  the  economic  life  of  the  country.  An  almost 
complete  ruin  of  industry,  a  considerable  decline  in 
productivity  of  work,  a  conspicuous  diminution  of  sown 
area,  an  exhaustion  of  reserves  formerly  accumulated, 


THE  FAMINE  253 

the  disorganization  of  transportation,  the  depreciation 
of  the  ruble, — all  these  evils  have  made  the  poor  crops, 
caused  by  bad  weather,  bring  about  a  really  catastro- 
phic situation.  Most  decisive  and  complete  measures 
are  necessary  in  order  that  all  classes  of  the  population 
who  are  in  the  same  predicament  may  take  part  in  the 
struggle." 

We  shall  see  in  another  place  that  just  that  attempt 
to  unite  the  non-Bolshevist  Russia  in  that  gigantic  task 
of  helping  themselves  made  the  Bolsheviks  suspicious 
and  brought  the  work  of  the  Moscow  committee  to  a 
speedy  close.  As  it  has  always  been  the  chief  aim  of 
the  Bolsheviks  to  influence  public  opinion  outside  of 
Russia  by  their  display  of  moderation,  they  planned 
to  send  the  leaders  of  the  committee  on  a  mission  to 
Britain,  France  and  probably  America.  Negotiations 
have  been  started  to  that  effect.  But  in  the  meantime 
the  Bolsheviks  saw  that  they  could  talk  with  the 
outer  world  without  intermediaries.  After  the  agree- 
ment with  Mr.  Hoover  they  concluded  another,  much 
more  favorable  for  them,  with  Mr.  Nansen.  They  re- 
served for  themselves  the  complete  control  of  supplies 
to  be  received  through  Mr.  Nansen  and,  in  addition, 
they  empowered  Mr.  Nansen  to  negotiate  a  loan  for 
them  to  the  amount  of  £10,000,000  (September,  1921). 

However,  this  time  they  were  very  much  disap- 
pointed. On  Mr.  Nansen's  coming  back  to  Geneva 
from  Moscow,  he  met  with  a  very  skeptical  reception 
on  the  part  of  the  League  of  Nations.  His  agreement 
was  found  unsatisfactory,  and  his  request  for  credit  at 
least  premature.  Many  questions  had  first  to  be  de- 
cided, such  as  recognition  of  debts,  conditions  of  eco- 
nomic reconstruction,  the  extent  of  recognition  of  the 
Soviet  Government,  etc.  The  Bolsheviks  made  things 


254     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

still  worse  for  themselves  by  their  insolent  refusal  to 
let  an  international  commission  of  inquiry,  headed  by 
Mr.  Noulens,  enter  Russia.  Thenceforth  it  was  quite 
hopeless  for  them  to  expect  that  Europe  would  pass 
over  the  question  of  economic  reconstruction  to  the 
direct  help  asked  by  Dr.  Nansen.  On  October  6,  1921, 
the  International  Russian  Relief  Commission  in  its 
plenary  sitting  at  Brussels  repeated  its  demand  for  a 
Commission  of  Inquiry  to  be  sent  to  the  affected  areas, 
as  a  condition  of  any  credit  to  be  given.  It  emphasized 
the  importance  of  guaranties  for  the  distribution  of  re- 
lief, and  made  the  following  recommendations  as  to 
the  Soviet's  request  for  credits: 

(1)  Whatever  may  be  the  extent  of  the  famine,  no  definite 
solution  can  be  found  until  economic  conditions  have  been 
realized  guaranteeing  normal  production  within  Russia,  and 
until  confidence  has  been  sufficiently  restored  for  foreign 
exporters  to  send  their  goods  to  Russia. 

(2)  The  confidence  necessary  to  secure  the  support  of  the 
commercial  communities  can  only  be  created  and  maintained 
when  Russia's  debts  and  obligations  have  been  recognized 
and  all  advances  to  her  sufficiently  guaranteed.    These  prin- 
ciples apply  both  to  credits  granted  by  the  Governments 
and  by  private  concerns. 

(3)  The  Conference  is  thus  led  to  the  conclusion  that,  in 
order  to  obtain  the  credits  for  the  purpose  of  aiding  exporta- 
tion to  Russia,  the  two  following  conditions  are  absolutely 
essential: — 

(a)  The  Russian  Government  must  recognize  its  existing 
debts  and  other  obligations. 

(b)  Adequate  guarantees  must  be  given  for  all  credits  to 
be  granted  in  the  future. 

These  recommendations  hopelessly  confounded  po- 
litical questions  with  that  of  mere  philanthropy.  The 
Russian  democratic  parties  wished  to  discriminate  be- 


THE  FAMINE  255 

tween  the  immediate  help  on  American  lines,  which 
they  enthusiastically  greeted,  and  the  question  of  re- 
construction which  could  not  be  solved  as  long  as  the 
Bolsheviks  continued  in  power.  The  Supreme  Council 
of  the  Allies  put  itself  before  an  alternative  equally 
dangerous  on  both  sides :  recognition  of  the  Soviet  Gov- 
ernment or  complete  refusal  of  help  to  the  suffering 
population. 

The  Soviet  Government  was  thus  left  to  its  own 
resources  and  to  the  aid  of  voluntary  organizations 
(in  the  first  line,  the  A.  R.  A.).  Its  own  scheme  for 
relief  is  based  on  the  allotment  of  some  12,000,000 
poods  of  flour  and  grits,  10,000,000  poods  of  potatoes 
and  1,750,000  poods  of  meat  for  the  space  of  time  from 
October,  1921,  to  June,  1922.  They  expected  to  feed 
with  this  a  gradually  increasing  number  of  children  and 
adults:  respectively  375,000  and  125,000  in  October; 
1,500,000  and  1,000,000  in  January,  after  which  the 
number  of  adults  is  to  increase  up  to  1,750,000  in 
March.  The  motive  was  that  "it  is  necessary  to  give 
a  little  food  to  the  workers  in  the  field,  so  that  they 
will  not  fall  down  while  going  behind  the  plow,"  and 
that  "this  is  the  only  way  to  save  the  spring  seeds  from 
being  eaten  by  the  starving  people."  In  May  the  num- 
ber of  adults  is  to  decrease,  and  it  comes  down  to  750,- 
000  in  June.  One  must  add  that  even  that  scheme  does 
not  go  beyond  the  feeding  of  3,250,000 — the  highest 
figure — in  March,  while  the  whole  starving  population 
is  estimated  for  the  same  time  as  12,000,000.  The 
amount  of  seed  necessary  for  the  15  starving  provinces 
is  estimated  by  the  Soviets  as  more  than  22,000,000 
poods,  of  which  they  hoped  to  buy  in  Sweden  and  in 
the  Baltic  States  5,000,000  poods;  to  get  in  exchange 
for  goods,  through  the  Cooperatives,  another  5,000,000, 


256    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

and  to  appropriate  15,000,000  from  the  supply  fund. 
Of  course,  all  these  were  merely  plans,  and  it  is  impos- 
sible to  say  what  part  of  them  can  be  realized.  The 
last  figures  of  imports  of  food  to  be  found  in  the  Red 
press  refer  to  December  6,  1921,  and  they  can  give  us 
a  good  idea  as  to  the  relative  proportion  of  help  given 
to  the  Russian  people  by  different  organizations.  Here 
are  the  figures: 

Car-loads 

American  Relief  Administration 1,265 

Central    Russian    (Bolshevist)     Committee 

Famine  Relief 674 

International  Children's  Relief 180 

Nansen's  organization 88 

Quakers'  organization 61 

From  Bulgaria   60 

Swedish  Red  Cross 41 

German  Volga  Committee 8 

Thus,  the  activity  of  the  American  Relief  Admin- 
istration is  the  most  conspicuous,  and  it  is  only  natural 
that  the  news  about  the  Americans  helping  Russia  has 
traveled  to  the  remotest  corners  of  Russia's  provinces. 
No  propaganda  and  no  other  form  of  activity  could  lay 
such  a  firm  foundation  for  lasting  friendship  between 
our  two  countries  as  the  activity  of  these  75  Americans 
who  form  the  working  personnel  of  the  American  Re- 
lief Administration.  It  is  no  wonder  that  the  Bolshe- 
vist authorities  abstain  from  interference  with  the 
American  work  (although  they  still  try  to  discredit  it 
through  the  press).  But  even  the  lawless  elements 
which  are  now  so  many  in  Russia,  the  bandits  and  the 
robbers,  are  kept  in  check  by  the  high  moral  value  of 
that  humanitarian  activity.  I  find  a  touching  account 
in  a  cablegram  of  the  A.  R.  A.  of  December  8: 


THE  FAMINE  257 

"Raiders,  800  men  and  women,  all  dressed  in  sheepskin 
coats,  riding  black  horses,  carrying  two  rifles,  looted  all 
Government  warehouses,  taking  what  they  wanted,  telling 
the  populace  to  take  the  balance.  But  they  left  the  A.  R.  A. 
warehouse  entirely  untouched.  The  tall  thin  black-bearded 
leader  even  knew  Floete's  name.  He  made  a  speech  in  the 
public  square  saying  that  he  liked  the  American  representa- 
tive who  had  humanity  at  heart  and  only  wanted  to  feed 
the  starving.  Coming  and  going  I  met  several  unprotected 
wagon  trains  carrying  our  supplies  but  always  left  unmo- 
lested when  they  learned  the  origin  and  purpose." 

Before  I  finish  this  chapter,  let  me  quote  a  few  more 
passages  from  recent  American  reports.  They  will 
give  us  the  latest  news  as  to  the  state  of  the  famine 
in  Russia  and,  as  was  to  be  expected,  they  will  show 
that  the  situation  far  from  being  improved  has  become 
worse  with  the  beginning  of  winter. 

Mr.  Rives  Childs,  regional  inspector  of  the  Kazan 
district,  made  a  trip  of  560  miles  through  12  of  the  13 
cantons  of  the  Tatar  republic.  This  is  what  he  wrote 
while  on  his  way  (December  17) : 

"Conditions  are  growing  worse  by  leaps  and  bounds.  I 
am  thoroughly  convinced  after  my  last  trip  and  on  the  basis 
of  reports  we  are  receiving  that  to  say  that  half  the  popula- 
tion of  the  Tatar  republic  will  starve  before  the  end  of  the 
winter  would  be  in  the  nature  of  a  conservative  estimate. 
Conditions  took  a  turn  for  the  worse  in  most  cantons  be- 
ginning with  November  and  will  reach  a  crisis  in  January. 
The  only  meal  that  75%  of  the  children  in  our  kitchens  are 
receiving  to-day  is  from  the  A.  R.  A.  Unless  the  outside 
world  awakens  to  conditions  here  I  doubt  if  we  shall  save 
more  than  half  the  children  we  are  feeding  to-day." 

After  his  return,  Mr.  Childs  gave  (January  5)  some 
figures  to  support  his  statement: 

"Six  hundred  thousand  children  have  no  resources  upon 
which  to  live  through  the  winter  and  50%  of  these  are  al- 


258    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

ready  in  acute  need.  Excluding  the  number  of  children  we 
are  feeding  and  a  small  number  reached  by  Russian  Relief, 
only  12%  of  the  remaining  population  can  survive  the  win- 
ter. During  recent  months  34%  to  72%  of  the  horses  have 
been  killed  for  food  and  cows  to  even  a  greater  proportion. 
These  figures  are  confirmed  in  40  villages  representing  every 
canton  visited." 

To  the  south  from  the  Tatar  Republic  the  situa- 
tion is  the  same.  Here  is  the  state  of  things  in  the 
Bashkir  Republic,  as  reported  by  the  Ufa  supervisor 
(January  9) : 

"Of  the  total  population  of  2,000,000  of  the  Ufa  Gov- 
ernment half  a  million  are  famishing  children.  Of  the 
1,125,000  population  of  the  Bashkir  Republic  90%  are  fam- 
ishing. People  are  eating  their  last  supplies  of  food  sub- 
stitutes and  in  some  localities  are  making  flour  out  of  bones. 
Government  kitchens  are  soon  to  be  closed  because  of  the 
exhausted  supply  of  foodstuffs." 

A  more  detailed  report  from  a  trip  through  the 
Bashkir  Republic  via  Samara — Ufa — Sterlitamak 
(the  capital)  by  Mr.  Dickinson  (December  28)  com- 
pletes the  ghastly  picture: 

"Villages  in  this  region  are  from  20  to  40%  deserted  by 
the  people  fleeing  from  the  famine,  and  the  remaining  in- 
habitants are  living  mostly  on  bread  made  from  weeds  and 
clay.  The  dead  are  carted  from  railroad  stations  and 
trains  at  Ufa,  Samara  and  elsewhere  by  wagon  road.  When 
a  wagon  is  not  immediately  available  the  dead  are  thrown 
into  big  bins  and  snow  shovelled  over  them  to  preserve  the 
bodies.  The  dead  are  usually  buried  in  big  trenches  in  cem- 
eteries. At  Samara  Dickinson,  visiting  a  cemetery  late  in 
the  day,  saw  50  bodies  still  unburied  although  workmen  had 
been  busy  all  day." 

Still  more  to  the  south,  the  situation  on  the  lower 
Volga,  about  50  miles  southwards  from  Saratov,  is  thus 


THE  FAMINE  259 

summarized  in  a  report  from  Mr.  Clapp  (December 

22): 

"I  inspected  15  villages.  Children  are  badly  swollen  from 
starvation  and  dying  daily.  Horses  are  killed  for  food  and 
soon  there  will  be  no  live  stock  left.  Total  population  has 
absolutely  nothing  in  the  way  of  substantial  foodstuffs,  al- 
most no  clothing.  There  is  a  general  exodus  from  the  dis- 
trict. The  roads  are  teeming  with  wagons  with  families 
with  few  possessions  going  to  Saratov.  When  asked  where 
they  are  bound  for  they  reply:  'America/  or  some  place 
where  there  is  bread.  All  have  a  vague  hope  of  crossing 
the  frontier  somewhere  and  ultimately  getting  to  America." 

These  are  all  cold  facts,  but  we  can  understand  how, 
after  having  passed  through  many  heartrending 
scenes,  the  American  visitors  finally  break  into  pathetic 
appeals.  Mr.  Childs  writes  thus  from  his  trip  to  Ela- 
buga: 

"I  am  sure  that  if  our  representative  American  citizens 
who  sit  in  Congress,  or  those  diplomats  who  affect  to  speak 
for  millions  of  their  citizens,  could  have  passed  with  me 
along  the  way  which  I  was  traveling  and  could  have  seen  the 
mute  appeals  I  saw  in  the  faces  of  the  hungry  and  could 
have  heard  the  tales  of  distress  as  I  heard  them  told  so 
simply,  there  could  exist  no  doubt  as  to  whether  such  a 
woman  as  this  (see  below)  should  be  given  sufficient  food 
to  endure  the  winter." 

Here  is  the  distressing  scene  reported  by  the  ob- 
server: 

"The  mother  (of  two  children),  a  young  woman  school- 
teacher of  about  28,  looked  tired  and  despairing  (in  the 
village  school  they  had  tea) .  Asked  what  food  she  herself 
lived  on,  she  answered  that  she  had  nothing.  She  did  not 
know  what  to  do  to  save  herself  from  starvation  which 
seemed,  in  view  of  conditions  confronting  her,  to  be  in- 


260    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

evitable.  I  turned  over  to  her  all  the  food  which  we  were 
carrying  with  us  consisting  of  two  or  three  pounds  of  bread 
and  as  many  pounds  of  rice.  The  gifts  did  not  elicit  from 
her  tired  face  even  a  smile.  The  only  evidence  of  any  human 
emotion  was  the  glance  of  tenderness  which  she  bestowed 
upon  her  children  as  they  scampered  about  the  bread." 

This  case  was  not  an  exception,  as  is  to  be  expected. 
Mr.  Childs  reports: 

"The  mothers  and  fathers  of  the  children,  it  was  found, 
were  now  running  out  of  food  and  I  believe,  in  view  of  this 
fact,  that  unless  it  is  possible  for  the  A.  R.  A.  to  undertake 
adult  feeding  that  it  is  quite  possible  in  view  of  the  critical 
conditions  which  are  sure  to  come  this  winter  that  the  feed- 
ing of  the  children  alone  will  come,  it  might  also  be  said,  to 
naught." 

Mr.  Childs'  general  conclusion  is: 

"It  is  all  bad ;  there  is  only  a  difference  of  degree.  One 
might  sum  up  the  situation  by  saying — some  have  starved, 
some  are  starving,  and  others  are  on  the  verge  of  starvation, 
and  it  is  not  a  question  of  months  or  weeks,  but  of  days." 

I  could  complete  these  reports  with  a  number  of 
quotations  from  the  Red  press,  which  confirm  the 
American  descriptions,  but  enough  has  been  said  to 
show  how  great  the  need  is,  how  powerless  the  Soviet 
Government  is  to  cope  with  it,  and  how  inevitably 
insufficient  must  be  the  help  from  outside.  Of  course, 
this  is  by  no  means  an  argument  against  that  help. 
Nor  do  I  think  that  help  given  to  the  population  can 
strengthen  the  Bolsheviks.  I  would  not  raise  my  voice 
against  the  saving  of  Russian  lives  even  if  I  thought 
so.  But  this  is  not  the  case.  Nothing  can  help  the 
Bolsheviks  to  their  feet  again.  The  disproportion  be- 
tween what  is  necessary  for  a  State  to  exist  and  what 


THE  FAMINE  261 

can  be  done  by  the  Soviet  power  to  improve  the  situa- 
tion can  only  grow  with  time.  A  great  nation  like 
Russia  cannot  be  saved  by  philanthropy.  It  has  to 
work  out  its  own  salvation,  and  no  salvation  can  be 
found  as  long  as  the  State  is  run  on  false  economic 
principles  by  people  who  are  not  interested  in  its  pres- 
ervation nor  in  the  fate  of  its  population. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

RUSSIA  TO-MORROW. 

There  are  two  sides  to  the  process  I  have  been  de- 
scribing in  the  preceding  eight  chapters.  "The  old 
crumbles  down,  time  brings  changes,  and  from  the 
ruins  blossoms  forth  a  new  life."  l  I  used  that  quota- 
tion from  Schiller  twenty-five  years  ago,  to  sum  up  my 
"History  of  Civilization  in  Russia."  I  am  tempted  to 
use  it  again,  to  sum  up  what  some  people  are  inclined 
to  call  Russia's  return  to  barbarism. 

To  be  sure,  with  the  background  of  the  World  War, 
the  Revolution  has  brought  great  destruction.  Con- 
ditions proved  extremely  favorable  for  Bolshevism  to 
take  hold  of  the  Revolution.  But  the  Revolution  in 
Russia  is  a  long  process  of  change  in  the  minds  of  the 
people  and  in  the  institutions.  It  is  organically  con- 
nected with  the  whole  process  of  Russian  civilization. 
Bolshevism  is  only  a  stage  which  is  passing  away. 
Even  in  this  stage  the  process  is  not  confined  to  the 
destruction  brought  about  by  the  Bolshevist  power. 
There  are  many  germs  of  new  life  blossoming  from  the 
ruins.  The  other  side  of  the  process  is  not  destructive, 
but  constructive.  It  is  this  side  that  makes  us  hopeful 
in  spite  of  all  and  proud  of  our  Russia  of  to-morrow. 

It  is  probably  easier  in  a  great  process  of  change  to 
predict  what  will  be  the  final  outcome  than  to  make 

1  "Das  Alte  stiirzt,  es  andert  sich  die  Zeit,  und  neues  Leben  bliiht 
aus  den  Ruinen." 

262 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  263 

prophecies  as  to  what  is  going  to  happen  next.  But 
the  latter  question  is  generally  asked  first,  and  an  an- 
swer is  suggested  in  what  has  been  said  in  Chapters 
VII  and  VIII.  The  Bolshevist  stage  of  the  great  Rus- 
sian Revolution  is  coming  to  a  close  as  a  consequence 
of  two  factors:  the  economic  exhaustion  and  the  atti- 
tude of  the  population  towards  the  present  power. 

An  outsider  easily  grows  skeptical  when  he  now  hears 
about  the  coming  end  of  the  Bolsheviks.  Prophecies 
to  that  effect  have  been  repeated  for  four  years  but 
they  have  proved  wrong.  The  closer  observer  of  Rus- 
sian events  knows,  however,  that  these  prophecies  were 
never  entirely  mistaken.  Mr.  Brailsford  has  just  told 
us  in  his  "The  Russian  Workers'  Republic"  that  one 
of  the  ablest  leaders  of  Bolshevist  Russia  made  the 
avowal  to  him  that  "in  1917  they  hardly  hoped  to 
maintain  themselves  for  two  months."  There  were 
many  causes  which  contributed  to  their  staying.  There 
was  also  a  gradual  process  which  eliminated  those 
causes,  one  by  one.  In  Chapters  II  and  III  we  noted 
the  part  that  the  Bolshevist  promises  played  in  their 
success  and  in  the  strengthening  of  their  power.  But 
gradually  the  masses  saw  they  were  being  deluded. 
There  was  also  fear,  caused  by  the  organization  of 
terror,  and  this  motive  is  still  working.  But  this  factor 
alone  can  never  suffice  to  sustain  the  Bolsheviks  in 
power  once  the  population  has  withdrawn  its  tacit 
moral  consent.  There  were  two  additional  reasons 
which  contributed  to  the  moral  consent  given  to  the 
Bolsheviks  to  rule,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  their  prom- 
ises had  already  proved  false.  In  the  first  place,  there 
was  that  "White"  movement.  There  was  a  moment, 
especially  in  1918-1919,  when  the  population  wished 
for  the  success  of  the  "White"  movement  and  tried  to 


264     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

help  it.  But  we  also  know  (Chap.  VI)  why  finally 
the  population  found  that  this  was  "worse  than  Bol- 
shevism," and  chose  the  lesser  evil.  From  then  on  the 
"White"  movement  helped  to  strengthen  Bolshevism 
instead  of  destroying  it.  It  promoted  a  national  feel- 
ing as  against  the  foreign  intervention  and  it  made  the 
population  realize  that  they  still  had  to  defend  their 
social  gains  from  the  claims  of  the  dispossessed  privi- 
leged class.  In  the  second  place,  the  Bolshevist  propa- 
ganda succeeded  in  implanting  in  the  people  the  idea 
that  a  communist  revolution  was  impending  all  over 
the  world,  and  they  naturally  concluded  that  it  was 
useless  to  combat  it  in  Russia.  Many  a  construction 
of  Russia's  greatness  was  based  on  the  speculation  of 
a  convalescent  young  Russia  in  the  midst  of  the  old 
world  grown  sick. 

Now  these  last  two  causes  no  longer  exist.  Since  the 
beginning  of  1921  there  is  no  "White"  movement,  and 
the  people  have  to  rely  on  themselves  for  their  salva- 
tion. The  consequences  of  that  change  of  mind  have 
already  made  themselves  felt  in  a  series  of  isolated 
uprisings.  On  the  other  hand,  even  the  Bolshevist 
leaders  no  longer  expect  the  world  revolution  to  come 
at  once,  although  they  have  not  lost  faith  in  it.  The 
people  are  tired  of  waiting  for  a  world  overthrow.  The 
objection  may  be  raised  that  just  this  state  of  despair 
as  to  the  possibility  of  a  speedy  change  to  come  from 
the  outside  might  move  the  population  to  look  at  the 
Bolshevist  regime  as  final  and  to  support  it,  by  the 
force  of  a  growing  tradition.  This  objection  would 
have  value  if  the  Bolshevist  regime  could  make  itself 
at  least  minimally  acceptable  for  the  nation.  But  it 
cannot. 

Can  Bolshevism  evolve?    This  is  the  question  hi  dis- 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  265 

pute.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  Bolshevist  power  is 
making  concessions.  But  the  point  is  that  it  makes 
them  in  order  to  remain  a  Bolshevist  power.  We  know 
the  reason  for  their  readiness  to  make  concessions: 
it  is  that  Russia  is  only  a  means  for  them,  while  their 
aim  is  international  and  universal.  They  may  change 
the  exhausted  Russia  for  some  unexhausted  place  in 
the  East :  that  idea  had  been  discussed  and  preparations 
had  been  made  in  their  hour  of  distress,  in  1919.  It 
seems  to  have  been  revived  again,  with  the  increased 
possibilities  for  some  national  and  even  social  over- 
throw in  Asia  (see  Chap.  V).  But  the  Bolsheviks 
cannot  change  their  system,  neither  in  an  exhausted 
Russia,  nor  in  another  place:  I  mean  the  system  of 
arbitrary  rule  of  the  Communist  Party  based  on  com- 
pulsion. So  far  as  this  system  is  concerned  they  are 
even  less  able  to  compromise  than  ever  autocracy 
was,  which  fell  just  because  of  its  incapacity  for 
compromise.  There  was  an  idea  in  autocracy 
which  could  be  broken  only  with  autocracy  itself. 
There  is  an  idea  in  Bolshevism  which  also  can- 
not be  broken  unless  Bolshevism  is  broken.  But  even 
if  there  were  no  idea,  if  they  really  were  only  a  gang 
of  rascals  and  assassins,  even  then  to  tone  down  by  an 
evolutionary  change  is  impossible  for  them  for  the 
reason  which  one  of  my  American  friends  formulated 
in  the  picturesque  phrase:  "You  cannot  dismount  if 
you  ride  on  a  tiger." 

It  was  Mr.  Lloyd  George's  idea,  to  which  he  stuck 
from  the  time  of  the  invitation  of  the  Bolsheviks  to 
Prinkipo,  hi  January,  1919,  up  to  the  time  of  the  invita- 
tion to  Genoa,  in  January,  1922,  that  trade  with  the 
Bolsheviks  will  be  the  powerful  factor  which  will 
smooth  down  all  difficulties  and  bring  into  Russia  the 


266     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

sobering  influence  which  will  gradually  transform  the 
"cannibals"  and  "assassins"  into  a  sort  of  decent  gov- 
ernment. Accordingly,  a  formula  of  minimum  requi- 
sites was  sought  for  to  make  a  civilized  intercourse  with 
Bolshevist  Russia  possible  at  all.  Secretary  Hughes' 
formula  given  out  in  his  Note  of  March  25,  1921,  was  as 
follows:  "It  is  idle  to  expect  resumption  of  trade  until 
the  economic  bases  of  production  are  securely  estab- 
lished. Production  is  conditioned  upon  the  safety  of 
life,  the  recognition  by  firm  guarantees  of  private  prop- 
erty, the  sanctity  of  contract  and  the  rights  of  free 
labor."  Nobody  can  say  that  these  are  political  de- 
mands. They  can  be  complied  with  by  the  mere  exist- 
ence of  a  code  of  civil  law,  which  might  be  enforced  by 
regular  judicial  institutions,  under  the  supposition  that 
there  is  a  legal  order  defended  by  the  power  of  the 
State.  It  is,  however,  characteristic  for  Bolshevism 
that  the  citizens  of  the  very  country  which  entered  into 
a  formal  trade  agreement  with  the  Bolsheviks  (Great 
Britain  in  March,  1921)  were  the  first  to  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  no  such  prerequisites  as  those  just  men- 
tioned can  exist  in  Soviet  Russia.  Mr.  Leslie  Urquhart 
is  the  Chairman  of  the  Board  of  Directors  of  a  powerful 
British  company,  "The  Russo-Asiatic  Consolidated, 
Ltd.,"  possessing  important  mines  and  works  at  Kysh- 
tym,  Tanalyk,  etc.  He  received  a  proposition  from 
the  Bolsheviks  to  enter  into  an  agreement  concerning 
that  property.  He  went  to  Moscow  and  in  August  and 
September,  1921,  discussed  with  the  Concessions  Com- 
mission, in  all  details,  the  draft  of  a  contract  embodying 
27  clauses.  As  a  result,  the  Company  preferred  "to 
remain  as  heretofore  claimants  against  Russia  for  dam- 
age caused  by  the  Soviet  Government  for  unlawful 
appropriation  of  properties  and  working  capital."  The 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  267 

motives  for  this  decision  are  stated  by  Mr.  Leslie  Urqu- 
hart  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Krassin,  and  they  are  so  closely 
connected  with  my  trend  of  argument  that  I  may  be 
permitted  to  quote  them  at  some  length.  Says  Mr. 
Urquhart : 

"As  communism  does  not  recognize  the  right  to  pri- 
vate property  on  which  the  previous  Civil  and  Criminal 
Code  was  based,  magistrates  have  been  suppressed  and 
Courts  of  Justice  have  been  abolished.  Nothing  has 
been  substituted  for  these  except  a  so-called  Court  of 
revolutionary  conscience.  Under  the  new  system,  taxes 
have  been  abolished,  the  mining,  factory,  customs,  for- 
est and  railway  laws  and  regulations,  in  fact  all  previ- 
ously existing  authorities,  have  been  destroyed,  as  is 
evidenced  by  the  Clauses  of  that  draft  Concessions 
Contract  reviewed  in  this  letter,  and  nothing  but  in- 
complete Decrees  and  instructions  which  are  issued 
daily  have  taken  their  place.  Further,  the  communis- 
tic system  does  not  recognize  any  obligations  between 
individuals  and  therefore  no  contract  or  obligation  be- 
tween two  persons  can  be  enforced ;  nor  does  the  State 
itself  recognize  any  obligation  to  individuals  or  sub- 
jects. The  only  obligation  recognized  and  enforced  in 
the  communistic  State  is  the  absolute  subjection  of 
every  individual  to  the  State. 

"This  extraordinary  position,  the  absence  of  all  laws 
and  regulations,  dominated,  as  you  are  aware,  the  dis- 
cussions all  through  the  negotiations." 

The  summary  of  what  was  said  by  the  British  busi- 
ness man  during  the  negotiations  is  given  by  himself  in 
the  following  words : 

"We  pointed  out  that  Russia  under  her  present  communist 
system  of  State  economy  produces  nothing  to  trade  with, 


268     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

that  the  process  of  unlimited  emissions  of  banknotes  has 
utterly  exhausted  the  remnants  of  credit  and  that  the  stocks 
of  products  and  materials  of  the  old  capitalistic  system  had 
been  used  up.  The  abolition  of  rights  to  property,  of  eco- 
nomic freedom  and  the  complicated  system  of  economic  re- 
strictions generally  have  killed  individual  initiative  and 
enterprise  while  the  elimination  of  private  gain  had  de- 
stroyed all  incentive  to  work  and  produce.  The  policy 
of  nationalization  of  all  industry  and  trade  had  killed  for- 
eign credits,  and  foreign  capital  without  which  the  resuscita- 
tion of  Russian  industry  will  be  difficult,  if  not  practically 
impossible,  would  not  be  forthcoming  if  the  present  economic 
system  were  to  continue." 

Now,  as  we  know,  1921  was  the  time  when  the  Bol- 
sheviks found  themselves  badly  in  need  of  individual 
initiative  and  enterprise,  as  well  as  of  foreign  credits 
and  capital.  By  the  Decree  of  March  30,  they  granted 
the  peasant  and  town  workers  permission  to  barter  and 
to  trade,  they  decided  to  denationalize  small  industries 
and  to  offer  concessions  to  foreign  capitalists.  In  Au- 
gust, on  the  basis  of  these  concessions,  they  tried  to 
negotiate  a  loan  of  £10,000,000  through  Mr.  Nansen. 
On  October  29,  in  a  speech  before  a  party  conference, 
Mr.  Lenin  invited  the  Bolsheviks  to  a  further  "retreat." 
"State  Capitalism,"  he  said,  has  not  succeeded.  "The 
exchange  of  manufactured  goods  •  for  the  produce  of 
agriculture  has  not  materialized,  in  the  sense  of  taking 
the  form  of  simple  buying  and  selling."  "The  private 
market  has  proved  to  be  stronger  than  our  author- 
ity." The  next  position  to  defend  is  "State  regulation 
of  buying  and  selling  and  of  money  currency." 
We  know  that  practically,  buying  and  selling  in 
a  kind  of  free  market  was  never  stopped.  But 
formal  recognition  of  that  basic  law  of  political 
economy  first  came  now.  Did  it  mean  that  Lenin 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  269 

had  decided  to  come  back  to  "capitalist"  econ- 
omy? By  no  means.  The  leading  principle,  as  stated 
by  Lenin  himself  in  the  Moscow  Pravda  in  August, 
remained  that  all  concessions  to  be  made  should  be 
"within  the  limits  of  what  the  proletariat  can  concede 
without  ceasing  to  be  the  dominating  class." 

Can  legal  order,  ordinary  justice,  "sanctity  of  con- 
tract" and  "firm  guarantees  of  private  property"  be 
conceived  as  finding  themselves  within  these  limits? 
They  are  certainly  within  the  limits  of  what  autocracy 
could  concede  without  ceasing  to  be  the  dominating  au- 
thority. Autocracy  had  been  securing  all  these  things, 
which  did  not  have  anything  in  common  with  politics 
or  political  freedom,  since  at  least  the  time  of  Peter  the 
Great.  But  now  they  are  outside  the  limits  of  a  regime 
which  demands  the  "absolute  subjection  of  every  in- 
dividual to  the  State."  No  space  for  the  activity  of 
civil  law  is  thus  left,  and  the  demand  for  "legal  order" 
under  the  Bolsheviks  has  become  a  political  demand 
implicating  the  overthrow  of  the  basic  principle  of  their 
regime.  Lenin  can  never  go  that  length  without  en- 
dangering the  continuation  in  power  of  the  "dominat- 
ing class." 

The  invitation  to  Genoa  seems  to  have  dealt  with 
that  impossibility.  The  only  condition  it  puts,  not 
merely  for  the  restarting  of  trade,  but  for  "official 
recognition"  of  the  Soviets,  is  that  the  property  and 
the  rights  of  foreigners  shall  be  respected  and  that  the 
sanctity  of  their  contracts  shall  be  in  some  way  guar- 
anteed. In  the  Russian  view  this  is  tantamount  to  the 
introduction  into  Russia  of  a  regime  of  capitulations 
and  exterritoriality  for  foreigners.  Russia  is  thus  to  be 
treated  like  old  Turkey  or  old  China  and  to  be  turned 
into  a  colony  of  foreign  exploitation.  Such  is  indeed 


270     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

the  scheme  that  was  suggested  by  Mr.  Keynes  in  his 
well-known  book  ("The  Economic  Consequences  of  the 
Peace")  and  taken  up  recently  by  Mr.  Stinnes  and, 
probably,  by  Mr.  Lloyd  George.  The  Russian  people 
is  not  likely  to  go  to  that  limit.  It  remains  to  be  seen 
whether  the  Bolsheviks  are  ready  to  go.  An  alliance 
with  foreign  "capitalists"  in  order  to  preserve  their 
power  over  Russia  may  be  within  the  scope  of  the 
negotiating  parties,  but  it  hardly  will  contribute  to  the 
Bolsheviks'  "evolution"  into  a  decent  government. 

There  is  one  specious  and  well-sounding  reason  used 
to  cover  the  "retreat"  of  the  Supreme  Council  from  the 
only  sensible  position,  which  is  that  of  Secretary 
Hughes  and  Mr.  Leslie  Urquhart.  The  Supreme  Coun- 
cil said :  "It  is  the  right  of  each  country  to  choose  for 
itself  the  system  which  it  prefers."  But  this  is  just 
what  the  Russian  people  was  not  permitted  to  do,  and 
will  not  be  permitted  to  do  as  long  as  the  "dominating 
class"  keeps  in  power.  When  asked  by  the  late  Prince 
Kropotkin  at  the  most  critical  moment,  in  September, 
1919,  whether  he  would  admit  the  building  of  a  coali- 
tion cabinet  with  other  political  (namely  socialistic) 
parties,  Lenin  replied  with  a  deliberate:  "No."  The 
Soviets  in  Hungary,  he  argued,  were  overthrown  just 
because  they  accepted  such  a  government.  He  was 
not  going  to  repeat  the  experiment.  However,  rumors 
went  again  to  the  same  effect  in  the  summer  of  1921 
and,  while  in  America,  I  was  often  asked  whether  it 
was  true  that  the  Bolsheviks  had  addressed  themselves 
to  certain  political  leaders  with  the  proposal  of  sharing 
the  power  with  them.  The  only  answer  I  could  give 
was  to  quote  from  a  secret  circular  which  was  sent  by 
the  Central  Committee  of  the  Communist  Interna- 
tional to  the  Bureau  of  the  Western  European  Propa- 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  271 

ganda  on  May  18.  The  circular  states  that  "certain  ir- 
responsible persons  who  call  themselves  representatives 
of  the  Communist  International,  the  Russian  Com- 
munist Party  and  the  Soviet  People's  Commissaries" 
were  carrying  on  negotiations  in  Paris,  Berlin,  Prague 
and  Vienna,  "regarding  the  possibility  of  a  compromise 
with  the  ami  of  forming  a  coalition  government."  The 
document  quoted  called  such  negotiations  "a  pure  pro- 
vocation" and  ordered  the  Western  Secretariat  to  in- 
quire about  the  facts  and  to  punish  the  delinquents  as 
dangerous  conspirators,  "whatever  be  their  revolution- 
ary past  or  their  personal  authority  in  the  party." 

However  unfounded  the  mentioned  rumors  are,  I 
was  still  asked  what  would  have  been  my  answer  if 
such  a  proposal  had  been  really  made  to  me  personally. 
The  only  answer  possible  for  any  Russian  democrat 
would  be  just  this:  Give  the  Russian  people  the  right 
really  "to  choose  for  itself  the  system  which  it  prefers." 
If  under  the  conditions  of  really  free  elections  to  a 
popular  assembly  the  people  say  they  prefer  the  Bol- 
sheviks,— well,  all  right,  we  will  submit  to  the  govern- 
ment of  their  choice.  If  there  must  then  be  further 
struggle,  it  can  be  carried  on  by  parliamentary  meth- 
ods. But  for  the  Bolsheviks  to  concede  free  elections, 
the  reestablishment  of  political  freedom,  together  with 
the  abolition  of  the  notorious  "Che-Ka"  and  their  sys- 
tem of  espionage,  would  mean  to  commit  suicide.  It 
would  be  too  naive  to  expect  it  from  a  party  which  is 
still,  as  Mr.  Brailsford  rightly  states,  "fighting  for  its 
life"  and  which,  "in  their  tremendous  adventure,  en- 
tirely discarded  democracy." 

No,  there  is  no  way  open  to  the  Bolsheviks  except  to 
fight  on  to  the  bitter  end.  No  substantial  change  in 
the  conditions  of  the  national  economy  and,  accord- 


272     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

ingly,  in  the  state  of  utter  exhaustion  of  the  national 
resources  can  come  as  long  as  their  basic  method — 
which  is  domination  by  an  insignificant  minority — and 
their  basic  ami — which  is  the  world  revolution — are  not 
surrendered. 

In  the  absence  of  such  a  possibility  what  are  their 
own  prospectives?  An  undertone  of  pessimism  per- 
vades the  last  speeches  of  Lenin.  In  the  October  speech 
mentioned  above  he  reviewed  the  three  stages  of  the 
Bolshevist  struggle.  "When  the  question  was  about 
the  power  of  the  Soviet,  the  dissolution  of  the  Con- 
stituent Assembly  (i.e.,  end  of  1917  and  beginning  of 
1918),  the  danger  was  political  and  it  proved  to  be  neg- 
ligible. When  the  period  of  civil  war  set  in,  and  it  was 
supported  by  the  capitalists  of  the  entire  world  (i.e., 
second  part  of  1918  to  the  end  of  1920),  there  appeared 
a  military  danger,  and  it  was  much  more  formidable. 
But  when  we  changed  our  economic  policy  (i.e.,  spring 
of  1921)  the  danger  grew  even  much  stronger,  because 
it  is  formed  of  an  enormous  number  of  every  day's 
trifling  details  which  nobody  takes  care  of."  It  is, 
Lenin  might  have  added,  a  struggle  against  the  laws  of 
life  expressed  in  the  science  which  he  made  the  object 
of  his  special  study:  political  economy.  In  another 
speech,  held  on  October  19,  before  a  congress  of  the  in- 
stitutions of  "political  education,"  Lenin  was  still  more 
explicit.  "The  struggle  will  be  more  desperate  and 
more  violent  than  that  against  Kolchak  and  Denikin." 
To  win  in  war  has  been  a  familiar  thing  for  centuries, 
but  this  tune  it  is  the  war  of  the  understanding,  of 
political  preparedness.  Now,  "the  proletariat  has  been 
declassed  and,  as  a  class,  it  has  ceased  to  exist."  It- 
will  grow  with  the  new  growth  of  capitalism,  but  this  is 
not  the  basis  on  which  a  "proletarian  power  can  rest." 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  273 

Is  it  the  Communist  Party?  Lenin  "hopes"  that  at 
least  100,000  members  will  be  removed  from  it  and 
he  will  be  "still  more  pleased"  if  200,000  will  be  re- 
moved, as  they  are  "red-tapeists"  and  "embezzlers." 
There  remain  the  peasants,  but  "they  can  have  no  un- 
derstanding because  they  suffer  from  illiteracy  and 
grope  in  the  darkness.  They  are  just  like  semi-savages. 
How  long  it  will  take  for  all  the  different  kinds  of  com- 
mittees to  liquidate  that  illiteracy,  it  is  impossible  to 
say."  On  the  other  hand,  no  waiting  is  possible.  "The 
question  is  now  whom  will  the  peasants  follow,  the 
proletariat,  which  strives  to  build  a  socialistic  society, 
or  the  capitalist  who  thinks  it  safer  to  turn  around?" 
"One  of  the  two  must  perish,  either  the  republic  or 
the  capitalists."  But  as  the  decision  rests  with  the 
"semi-savages"  who  prefer  "capitalism"  and  do  not 
see  the  "enemy"  in  it,  and  as  "it  is  confirmed  by  the 
experience  of  all  former  revolutions,"  one  can  readily 
guess  what  Mr.  Lenin's  real  conclusion  is. 

It  is  idle  to  speculate  just  how,  just  when  and  just 
where  the  Bolshevist  power  will  perish.  The  latest 
impressions  of  foreigners — and  of  certain  Americans — 
are  that  the  Bolshevist  power  is  as  strong  as  ever. 
There  is  the  Red  Army,  especially  those  detachments  of 
"Internal  Guards  for  Special  Service,"  whose  par- 
ticular aim  it  is  to  prevent  uprisings;  there  is  that 
largely  spread  system  of  espionage  which  defies  com- 
parison with  that  of  the  times  of  Tacitus, — not  to  speak 
of  autocracy.  There  is  also  that  notorious  "Extraordi- 
nary Commission,"  the  "Che-Ka,"  which  in  its  shooting 
the  "politically  unreliable"  is  not  even  constrained  by 
the  "revolutionary  conscience"  of  ordinary  tribunals. 
There  is  that  network  of  the  Bolshevist  administration 
which  can  carry  the  decisions  of  the  Central  Govern- 


274     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

ment  to  the  outskirts  of  the  former  Empire.  Even  the 
"Imperial"  spirit  of  unity  and  patriotism  is  renascent. 
Why  should  that  seemingly  strong  fabric  of  govern- 
ment collapse,  when  there  is  no  organized  force  to  com- 
bat it  either  from  the  ouside  or  from  the  inside? 

Mr.  Lenin  knows  better.  Mr.  Gorki  also  knows  bet- 
ter, for  he  only  recently  gave  vent  to  his  "proletarian" 
panic  before  the  coming  advent  of  these  "semi-savages" 
who  will  go  out  of  their  huts  and  will  sweep  the  towns 
and  the  cities  and  will  submerge  the  remaining  centers 
of  civilization  in  Russia.  This  state  of  mind  of  the 
powers  that  he  has  also  found  a  peculiar  reflection  in 
Mr.  Brailsford's  severe  indictment  of  the  Russian  peo- 
ple, "living  in  the  ignorance  and  in  the  superstition  of 
the  Middle  Ages."  According  to  him,  too,  "if  the 
peasants  had  had  the  will  or  the  skill  to  express  their 
minds,"  their  "democratic"  policy  "would  have  meant 
the  slow  death  of  the  towns  and  the  extinction  of  civil- 
ization." 

This  is  a  capital  point  which  must  be  elucidated 
before  we  go  any  further.  The  whole  question  of  Rus- 
sia of  "to-morrow"  is  here  implicated.  If,  indeed,  the 
Russian  people  have  passed  through  their  Revolution 
only  to  be  degraded  to  the  level  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
how  can  we  talk  at  all  of  democracy?  In  that  case,  of 
course,  we  "may  mean  by  democracy,  that  certain 
groups  of  intellectuals,  clever,  well-educated  and  gifted 
with  the  power  of  speech,  should  somehow  use  the  ma- 
chinery of  elections  in  order  to  guide  the  State  with 
their  own  more  or  less  enlightened  ideas."  But  as  this 
sentimental  picture,  purposely  drawn  in  pink,  is  ob- 
viously unrealizable,  the  way  is  paved,  by  the  method 
of  elimination,  to  the  Reds  or  the  Blacks, — to  Bolshe- 
vism or  Monarchy.  They  are  the  only  regimes  that 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  275 

can  rule  the  "semi-savages"  by  force,  thus  saving  "civil- 
ization" from  the  invasion  of  those  barbarians.  It 
was  not  in  vain  that  Mr.  Lenin  spoke  of  Monarchy  as 
the  only  alternative  to  Bolshevism.  However,  Mr. 
Brailsford  is  right  when  he  says  that  "the  convinced 
democrat  must  surely  mean  more  than  that," — even  in 
Russia. 

The  Bolshevist  —  or  pro-Bolshevist  —  argument 
queerly  coincides  with  that  of  the  Russian  reactionaries. 
As  they,  naturally,  do  not  believe  in  Bolshevism,  and 
as  any  other  issue  is  impossible  for  them,  they  think 
that  if  their  services  are  refused,  Russia  is  definitely 
lost.  The  Russian  people  are  unable,  according  to 
them,  to  save  themselves.  The  masses  are  down-trod- 
den and  helpless.  How  to  get  the  daily  bread  is  their 
only  thought.  Since  the  hope  for  help  from  the  out- 
side was  lost,  a  sort  of  dull  and  passive  submission  set 
in.  The  government  can  do  with  these  people  just  as 
they  like  for  as  long  as  they  like.  Moreover,  as  a  re- 
sult of  the  violent  struggle  for  life,  the  masses  have 
become  completely  demoralized.  Everybody  takes  care 
of  himself,  and  Might  goes  before  Right.  Abject  misery 
and  newly-acquired  riches  meet  in  unpalliated  con- 
trasts, unmitigated  by  any  social  work  or  relief.  All 
means  are  deemed  permissible  in  human  strife:  brib- 
ery, theft,  fraud,  robbery,  murder.  Sexual  laxity  has 
become  familiar.  The  young  generation  growing  in 
such  surroundings  is  bound  to  be  brought  up  free  from 
idealism,  disrespectful  of  law  and  moral  discipline,  but 
intensely  keen  and  shrewd  for  all  practical  purposes. 
As  the  other  nations  are  supposed  to  be  as  keen  and 
intent  on  profiting  by  Russia's  weakness,  the  result  is 
expected  to  be  that  Russia  will  become  a  prey  for  for- 
eign exploiters  who  will  transform  her  into  a  depend- 


276     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

ency  of  the  civilized  powers.  Such  a  country  can  only 
be  ruled  by  compulsion  and  it  certainly  deserves  to 
have  the  government  that  it  has.  Monarchy  is  too 
good  for  them,  autocracy  would  be  better,  and  the  Bol- 
sheviks gave  proof  of  great  understanding  of  realities 
when  they  undertook  to  rule  Russia  with  exaggerated 
methods  of  autocratic  violence.  That  regime  is  bound 
to  be  strong  and  it  can  be  supplanted  only  by  a  similar 
regime. 

This  is  about  the  view  of  the  situation  built  upon  a 
complete  lack  of  faith  in  the  Russian  people.  It  is,  per- 
haps, interesting  to  mention  that  the  same  people 
who  share  it  now  were  under  the  Tsar's  old  regime  very 
much  inclined  to  exaggerate  and  to  extol  the  good  qual- 
ities of  the  Russian  people,  namely  the  plain  peasants, 
the  "semi-savages"  of  the  present  day.  Our  nation- 
alists even  constructed  upon  it  an  idea  of  Russia's 
world  mission.  The  Russian  people  was  described  to 
be  the  most  perfect  exponent  of  Christian  spirit  and 
Christian  life.  It  was  especially  praised  as  true  to 
the  old  national  tradition,  at  the  expense  of  the  Russian 
intellectuals  who  were  said  to  be  treacherous  to  their 
people  and  its  faith.  I  must  also  add.  that  a  part  of 
the  Russian  intellectuals,  the  so-called  socialists-popu- 
lists ("Narodniki"),  eulogized  the  Russian  people  for 
having  been  born  "communists"  (meaning  the  collec- 
tive possession  of  land),  whose  mission  it  was  to  give 
the  world  its  new  Bible.  These  opinions  found  a  weak 
reflection  also  in  the  foreign  literature,  e.g.,  in  the 
books  of  Mr.  Stephen  Graham. 

I  have  lived  long  enough  to  observe  the  rise  and  fall 
of  these  alternate  opinions  which  I  never  shared.  To 
me  the  Russian  people  is  neither  a  "Christophorus" 
(Christ-bearer),  nor  communist,  nor  "semi-savage,"  nor 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  277 

a  "wild  animal."  The  mistake  of  the  present  de- 
tractors is  that  they  ignore  all  the  past,  with  its  long 
process  of  historical  growth,  and  do  not  know  the  pres- 
ent. The  study  of  the  real  Russian  people,  with  all 
their  good  qualities  and  faults,  has  itself  a  pretty  long 
history.  I  cannot  expatiate  on  that  subject  now,  but 
I  think  it  necessary  to  warn  against  superficial  obser- 
vations, with  no  background  behind  them,  and  against 
foregone  conclusions  which  beg  the  question.  People 
who  avow  that  they  do  not  know  much  about  the  real 
Russian  people  are  probably  nearer  to  the  truth  than 
the  amateurs  with  their  cut-and-dried  schemes,  mutu- 
ally exclusive. 

The  Russian  people  is  a  very  complex  phenomenon, 
and  one  may  find  in  it  as  many  features  as  one  needs  to 
prove  any  view.  The  above-mentioned  opinion,  which 
I  do  not  share,  is  overdrawn  and  one-sided,  but  one 
cannot  say  that  it  is  entirely  untrue.  There  is  another 
side  to  it  which  it  is  especially  important  to  emphasize 
in  connection  with  that  question  of  "Russia  of  to-mor- 
row." 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  necessary  to  state  that  the  very 
fact  of  the  widely  spread  fear  of  the  appearance 
of  the  real  people,  the  peasants,  on  the  political 
stage  is  a  most  eloquent  and  convincing  proof  of 
a  speedy  growth  of  their  social  weight.  One  may 
say  that  just  as  was  the  case  during  the  great  French 
Revolution,  the  Russian  peasantry  is  the  only  class 
which  has  directly  benefited  by  the  Revolution.  What- 
ever remained  of  the  nobility  after  the  great  act  of 
1861  (emancipating  the  peasants  from  serfdom)  was 
definitely  destroyed  by  the  Revolution  of  1917,  never 
to  revive  in  its  old  form.  The  class  of  industrialists, 
comparatively  young,  was  also  swept  away  by  the 


278     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

destruction  of  industry.  This  class  will  revive  and 
grow ;  but  its  social  role  is  all  in  the  future.  The  lower 
middle  class,  which  was  not  numerous,  has  particularly 
suffered  from  the  downfall  of  the  towns.  The  class  of 
workmen,  also  comparatively  recent,  is  scattered  and 
has  distributed  itself  among  the  village,  the  army  and 
the  new  officialdom.  The  intellectuals  and  men  of  the 
liberal  professions  have  been  in  part  exterminated,  a 
part  of  them  have  fled  away  from  Russia,  and  a  part 
were  forced  to  enlist  in  the  Bolshevist  civil  service. 
They,  of  course,  will  be  badly  needed  by  the  State  and 
the  communities  at  the  first  moment  of  Russia's  recov- 
ery. But  now  they  are  dragging  themselves  through 
a  miserable  existence.  The  peasants  alone  are  known 
to  have  become  better  off  since  the  beginning  of  the 
War,  to  have  taken  the  land  from  the  squires  after  the 
March  Revolution  and  to  have  enriched  themselves 
at  the  expense  of  the  town  during  the  Bolshevist 
revolution.  Their  growing  hatred  against  the  "loafers" 
in  the  towns  is  also  known,  but  it  is  explained  by  the 
fact  that  the  town  could  give  no  more  manufactured 
goods  for  grain,  which  it  began  to  requisition  from  the 
peasants  through  the  intermediary  of  the  Bolshevist 
State  machinery.  This  ill-feeling  will  certainly  pass 
as  soon  as  the  normal  relations  of  exchange  are  restored 
between  the  town  and  village.  As  things  are  now,  the 
town  is  frightened,  and  the  typical  exponent  of  the 
proletarian  townsfolk,  such  as  Gorki  is,  faithfully  re- 
flects that  state  of  feeling. 

It  is  also  mostly  among  the  townsfolk  that  negative 
phenomena  of  demoralization  can  be  observed.  Mr. 
Brailsford  rightly  brings  that  new  wave  of  crime  which 
swept  Russia  in  connection  with  the  same  phenomena 
all  over  Europe,  as  produced  by  the  state  of  misery 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  279 

created  by  the  War.  The  great  mortality,  especially 
in  the  towns  (Chap.  VII),  is  of  course  chiefly  due  to 
the  increased  state  of  suffering  caused  by  the  Bolshe- 
vist regime. 

The  consequences  of  the  economic  ruin  which  began 
from  the  top  have  also  hit  the  Russian  village  hard. 
We  know  how  it  has  reflected  itself  in  the  state  of  Rus- 
sia's agriculture  (Chap.  VII).  But,  with  the  exception 
of  the  famine-stricken  areas,  one  must  not  exaggerate 
the  degree  of  destruction  of  the  Russian  village.  It 
is  especially  here  that  the  comparatively  low  level  of 
economic  development  and  low  standard  of  life  ren- 
dered Russia  a  real  service.  Two  generations  have 
hardly  passed  by  since  the  light  of  civilization  was 
first  introduced  into  the  Russian  village  through  the 
newly  built  Zemstvos,  the  organs  of  rural  self-govern- 
ment.1 Such  forms  of  the  past  as  trade  based  on  bar- 
ter, industry  in  its  primitive  form  of  home  handwork, 
locally  limited  markets  and  fairs  were  still  fresh  in 
everybody's  memory.  It  was  comparatively  easy  for 
the  peasant  to  cast  aside  his  new  needs  and  habits  and 
to  revert  to  old  traditions,  such  as  homespun  clothes, 
filthy  hamlets,  thatched  roofs,  wooden  shoes  and  im- 
plements, chips  of  wood  instead  of  lamps  or  matches, 
primitive  means  of  transport  and  locomotion,  in  short, 
to  primitive  habits  of  life. 

Russia  has  fallen  deep ;  but  it  has  not  fallen  from  a 
very  high  level.  That  is  why  it  has  not  hurt  itself  so 
much  in  its  collapse,  as  would  be  the  case  with  a  more 
advanced  country.  Imagine  a  New  York  skyscraper 
falling  to  pieces,  or  a  Bolshevist  regime  playing  havoc 
for  a  couple  of  days  in  the  midst  of  an  extremely  com- 
plex social  organism  of  modern  times,  and  compare  it 

*See  my  book:  "Russia  and  its  Crisis,"  Chicago,  1905. 


280     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

with  some  similar  occurrence  somewhere  in  the  newly 
settled  districts  of  Manitoba:  you  will  realize  the  dif- 
ference and  you  will  understand  my  assumption,  that 
it  is  by  far  easier  for  a  country  like  Russia  to  recover, 
and  that  it  can  be  done  in  a  much  shorter  space  of 
time  than  would  be  the  case  with  a  more  highly  de- 
veloped social  structure. 

However,  it  would  be  entirely  wrong  to  take  the 
present  degraded  state  of  the  Russian  village  as  a  start- 
ing point  in  its  development  from  some  "semi-savage" 
stage  to  a  state  of  civilization  under  the  benevolent 
rule  of  the  Bolsheviks.  That  mistake  has  been  par- 
ticularly often  repeated  in  the  question  of  popular  edu- 
cation. The  Bolsheviks  are  generally  credited  with 
especially  successful  educational  activities.  And  in- 
deed they  drew  almost  as  much  attention  to  their 
school  as  to  their  army.  The  school  had  to  "serve  as 
a  laboratory  for  those  social  forms  which  are  considered 
most  rational  for  the  given  cultural  epoch."  In  plain 
speech  it  meant  teaching  communism.  But  the  Bolshe- 
viks at  once  met  with  the  resistance  of  the  "All-Russian 
Teachers'  Union,"  a  very  influential  organization.  They 
opposed  to  it  a  "Union  of  Teachers-Internationalists." 
However,  it  was  extremely  difficult  to  find  a  new  teach- 
ing personnel  devoted  to  communism.  In  December, 
1919,  the  Red  newspapers  of  Petrograd  complained 
that  out  of  the  total  »of  24,839  persons  who 
constituted  the  total  personnel  of  the  "Division 
of  Education,"  "9,439  were  former  bourgeois  intel- 
lectuals, 1,490  were  former  owners  of  property 
and  1,117 — former  bureaucratic  officials."  The  Red 
organ  was  extremely  dissatisfied  and  sarcastically 
remarked  that  these  bourgeoisie  worked  "in  the  sweat 
of  their  brow  to  introduce  communistic  education  and 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  281 

to  break  up  in  the  children  the  ideas  of  respect  for  the 
sacred  institution  of  private-ownership  of  the  means 
of  production  which  is  being  instilled  in  them  by  their 
backward  parents  and  to  educate  these  children  in  the 
spirit  of  the  realization  of  the  class  aims  of  the  pro- 
letariat." The  statistical  results  were  still  more  unsatis- 
factory for  the  Communists.  Let  us  compare  the  fig- 
ures of  a  pre-war  report  (1911)  and  that  of  the  Com- 
munist Minister  Lunacharsky  (for  1919) : 

Number  of  Scholars  1911  1919 

In  Elementary  schools 6,322,725        2,618,000 

"  Secondary  and  special 687,631  200,000 

"  Universities 38,192 *          55,000 


Total 7,048,548        2,873,000 

Far  from  having  opened  a  new  era  of  national  edu- 
cation, the  Bolsheviks  witnessed  the  destruction  to  a 
great  extent  of  what  had  been  accomplished  by  the  two 
last  Dumas.  A  scheme  for  universal  education  to  be 
introduced  in  a  period  of  15-20  years  was  worked  out 
by  the  Dumas  and  appropriations  in  the  budget  were 
being  increased  accordingly  at  a  very  speedy  rate.  The 
appraised  great  increase  in  the  budget  of  the  Bolsheviks 
was  purely  nominal. 

Appropriations  In  gold    Per  cent,  of  the 

Years       (thousands  of  rubles)     (millions)     whole  budget 

1912  170,206  ...  6.37 

1914  238,605  ...  7.21 

1916  270,775  ...  8.24 

1918  3,074,343  47.3  6.58 

1919   17.279,374  43.5  8.02 

1920   114,366,070  24.3  10.98 

1 3,778  peasants. 


282     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

The  decrease  in  the  number  of  schools,  pupils  and 
appropriations  under  the  Bolshevist  regime  is  evident. 
However,  there  is  one  feature  in  the  situation  which  is 
particularly  interesting.  The  peasants  themselves  dis- 
play a  great  interest  in  education  and  they  try  in  every 
way  to  make  up  for  the  deficiencies  of  the  Bolshevist 
State.  It  is  the  general  opinion  of  all  recent  observers 
of  Soviet  Russia,  that  "the  greed  for  knowledge  is  in- 
deed colossal"  among  the  peasants.  Of  course,  they 
do  not  care  about  the  history  of  communism:  they 
want  their  former  school  teachers  to  come  back  to 
them  and  to  teach  as  they  always  did.  The  school 
buildings  are  unrepaired  and  there  is  no  fuel  to  heat 
them.  There  are  no  textbooks,  no  blackboards,  no 
paper,  pens,  pencils  or  ink.  The  teacher  sometimes 
draws  the  characters  on  sand,  in  the  autumn  and  spring, 
on  snow  in  the  winter.  But  the  children  overcome  all 
obstacles  and  a  great  number  of  them  pass  to  the  sec- 
ondary schools.  In  Southern  Russia  sometimes  40  to 
60  per  cent,  of  the  pupils  in  the  secondary  schools  are 
children  of  peasants.  This  is  another  new  feature. 
Finally,  I  find  in  a  personal  letter  the  assertion  that  in 
every  village  one  can  find  young  peasants  who  have 
graduated  from  the  universities.  It  is  true  that  uni- 
versity teaching  has  especially  suffered  at  the  hands  of 
the  Bolsheviks,  the  program  of  studies  being  substan- 
tially changed,  all  entrance  requirements  being  entirely 
abolished  and  the  professorial  staff  being  chiefly  com- 
posed of  communist  newcomers,  without  sufficient 
qualifications  for  teaching.  To  compensate  for  these 
drawbacks,  Soviet  Russia  has  now  23  universities,  in- 
stead of  the  former  10,  and  we  have  seen  that  the 
number  of  students  has  increased.  The  desire  for  edu- 
cation is  especially  strong  among  the  growing  genera- 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  283 

tion  of  the  intellectuals.  The  gaps  in  the  official  teach- 
ing are  here  often  made  good  by  personal  study.  The 
enthusiasm  of  the  youth  and  the  feeling  of  duty  towards 
their  people  which  inspires  them  reminds  me  of  the 
best  period  in  the  history  of  our  intellectuals. 

Some  other  important  symptoms  of  a  new  revival 
in  the  masses  are  noted  by  Mr.  S.  Maslov,  whose  data 
I  have  quoted  in  a  previous  chapter.  He  emphasizes 
that  the  feeling  of  responsibility  towards  the  State  has 
also  grown  enormously  among  the  people  whom  he 
knows  from  close  observation.  The  connection  be- 
tween the  deranged  functions  of  the  State  and  the  en- 
suing dislocation  in  all  branches  of  social  life  is  now 
clearly  understood.  The  great  importance  of  cohe- 
sion between  the  different  regions  of  the  State,  the 
significance  of  railways,  harbors,  outlets  to  the  world 
communications  for  the  unity  of  the  national  organism 
has  also  been  learned  by  the  large  masses  from  the  ex- 
periences of  the  civil  war  and  Russia's  dismemberment. 
They  now  know  that  if  Russia  is  cut  from  the  north, 
there  is  no  fish  in  the  market;  if  the  Caucasus  is  de- 
tached, there  is  no  oil;  if  the  Donetz  basin  is  lost, 
there  is  no  coal.  These  are  the  elements  of  sound  na- 
tionalism which  had  been  lacking  but  which  they  have 
been  taught  at  the  hand  of  events.  Accordingly,  na- 
tional feeling  is  growing,  and  it  will  certainly  have  a 
great  influence  on  the  state  of  the  public  opinion  in 
questions  of  foreign  policy.  Owing  to  the  failure  of 
the  Bolshevist  experiment,  the  former  spell  of  socialism 
is  weakening,  especially  among  the  intellectuals  (Mr. 
Maslov,  a  socialist  himself,  has  left  the  ranks  of  his 
party).  In  all  classes  of  the  population,  intellectuals 
as  well  as  peasants,  a  common  feature  is  noticed  which 
Mr.  Maslov  designates  by  the  expressive  term  "crea- 


284    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

tive  pathos."  Everybody  wants  to  work,  to  break 
through  the  "senseless  and  criminal  barriers"  put  up 
by  the  Soviet  power,  and  to  till  the  land,  to  restart 
cooperation,  to  print  books.  "Russia  is  alive,"  Mr. 
Maslov  sums  up;  "the  people's  soul  has  not  been 
killed;  there  is  a  will  to  action,  a  healthy  reaction 
against  the  surrounding  chaos  and  dissolution."  Mr. 
Maslov  also  marks  the  moment  when  the  change  came. 
"From  October-November,  1920,"  he  states,  "the  curve 
of  Russia's  political  activity  moved  upwards.  Just  why 
it  happened  at  that  particular  moment,  I  cannot  ex- 
plain.1 But  the  fact  is  that  it  did.  Increased  activity 
manifested  itself  in  the  growth  of  the  peasant  up- 
heavals, in  the  greater  number  of  'partisans'  detach- 
ments, in  the  tumultuous  conferences  of  the  Soviets,2 
in  workmen's  disturbances,  in  the  movement  among  the 
students,  in  the  increasing  activity  of  the  socialistic 
parties  in  Russia,  in  the  growth  of  the  illegal  litera- 
ture, written  and  oral,  in  frequent  discussions  on  new 
political  groupings  and  in  the  new  determination  for 
building  local  branches  of  such  groupings." 

How  different  is  this  picture,  based  on  the  close  ob- 
servation of  experienced  political  workers,  from  the 
biased  constructions  and  deductions  of  the  pro-Bol- 
sheviks and  reactionaries!  It  makes  the  Russian  demo- 
crats very  hopeful  as  to  Russia  of  to-morrow,  and  it 
palliates  the  gloomy  forebodings  of  the  partisans  of  a 
"declassed"  proletariat  as  to  the  political  consequences 
of  the  predominance  of  the  Russian  farmers,  who  con- 
stitute the  great  majority  of  the  Russian  population. 

*It  coincides  with  the  final  downfall  of  the  "White"  movement 
(Gen.  Wrangel's  retreat).  See  Chap.  VI. 

'One  can  note  the  increasing  numbers  of  opposition  delegates 
elected  to  the  Soviet  in  spite  of  the  Bolshevist  pressure  on  the  elec- 
tions. 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  285 

Of  course,  political  life  in  a  democratic  Russia  of 
farmers  will  be  different  from  what  it  was  before.  But 
we  know  that  real  political  life  was  just  beginning  be- 
fore the  Revolution  (see  Chap.  I).  As  a  result  of  the 
pressure  of  autocracy  on  public  opinion  all  the  political 
parties  were  either  too  artificially  built  and  serving  a 
fictitious  representation,  or  too  doctrinaire  and  ab- 
stract, representing  political  ideas  rather  than  social 
interests.  Under  the  Revolution  the  former  group  of 
parties,  the  reactionary  and  conservative,  has  entirely 
disappeared,  while  the  latter,  the  liberal  and  socialistic, 
has  been  gradually  adapting  itself  to  real  political  life. 
"Even  these  parties  have  to  be  thoroughly  reconstructed 
in  order  to  be  able  to  serve  the  democratic  Russia  of  to- 
morrow. It  is  very  characteristic  that  all  the  political 
groups  now  fighting  the  Bolsheviks  inside  Russia  have 
lost  the  rigid  delineations  of  their  programs  and  have 
melted  together  in  a  common  struggle  which  is  carried 
on  under  extraordinarily  difficult  conditions.  The 
official  designation  of  that  matter-of-fact  coalition  of 
Russian  parties  (Mensheviks,  Social-Revolutionaries, 
Populists,  Cadets)  is  'non-party.'  It  is  the  'non- 
party'  element  which  fights  out  the  elections  to  the 
Soviets  and  succeeds  in  getting  into  them  a  few  repre- 
sentatives of  their  own  in  spite  of  all  the  anti-parlia- 
mentary methods  of  the  'dominating  class'  (see  Chap. 
III).  However,  there  are  elements  which  are  natur- 
ally excluded  from  that  'non-party'  coalition,  because 
they  are  simply  non-existent  in  Russia.  There  are  no 
monarchists  in  their  midst.  There  are  no  opponents  to 
democracy,  no  partisans  of  the  formerly  privileged  so- 
cial groups.  Democracy  is  the  present  day  reality  in 
Russia:  democracy  as  opposed  to  Bolshevism." 

If  the  picture  thus  drawn  is  true — as  I  think  it  is, 


286     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

on  the  authority  of  ample  evidence  given  in  papers,  in 
private  letters  and  through  personal  intercourse — some 
conclusions  may  be  drawn  concerning  the  Russia  of  to- 
morrow. 

We  have  seen  that  outside  of  Russia  a  reactionary 
and  monarchist  agitation  is  rife  among  the  members  of 
the  old  privileged  class,  the  old  type  bureaucrats  and 
the  remainders  of  the  evacuated  army.  It  is  stated 
that  up  to  15,000  former  officers  have  been  enlisted  by 
the  monarchist  organizations,  in  order  to  start-  on  a 
military  raid  at  some  opportune  moment,  with  the  aim 
of  restoring  monarchy.  However,  the  chance  of  suc- 
cess is  so  small  that,  to  my  knowledge,  no  pretender 
has  been  found  as  yet  who  would  consent  to  play  the 
part  of  Charles  Hapsburg.  It  would  be  difficult  to 
assert  that  the  very  idea  of  monarchy  has  completely 
disappeared  from  Russia.  But  if  that  idea  ever  was 
popular  in  Russia,  it  was  in  the  shape  of  a  democratic 
monarchy,  of  a  peasant  Tsar  like  Pugachov,  the  famous 
Cossack  impostor  of  the  time  of  Catherine  II,  the 
peasant  duplicate  of  her  murdered  husband,  Peter  III, 
who  surrounded  himself  with  peasant  dignitaries  and 
"generals."  Is  such  a  Russian  Napoleon  likely  to  ap- 
pear in  the  present  crisis?  Many  peasant  Nicholases  II 
have  already  appeared,  but  they  had  not  a  chance  to 
succeed.  Not  only  is  the  Russian  peasant  very  differ- 
ent from  what  he  was  in  the  XVIII  Century,  but  mon- 
archy has  also  lost  all  its  historical  prestige.  The  peas- 
ant cannot  forget  that  the  Russian  monarch  was  always 
in  close  alliance  with  the  Russian  squire.  And  the 
Russian  farmer  will  never  again  tolerate  the  squire. 
We  know  that  the  chief  reason  for  the  failure  of  the 
"White"  movement  was  that  the  "White"  generals 
came  accompanied  by  the  old  landlords.  Neither  can 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  287 

the  monarch  detach  himself  from  his  secular  ally,  the 
landlord,  because  he  is  the  only  one  that  wants  to 
bring  the  monarch  back.  This  is  why  the  monarchist 
movement  among  the  noble  emigres  has  no  chance  to 
succeed,  unless  it  is  supported — in  addition  to  the  Ger- 
man money  which  it  gets  now  (Chap.  VI) — by  a 
strong  German  army.  Ludendorffs  and  Stinneses  may 
dream  of  such  an  operation,  but  it  hardly  can  count  on 
any  support  elsewhere  in  Europe,  and  if  it  ever  ma- 
terializes it  can  only  count  on  a  momentary  and  passing 
success. 

If  we  dismiss  that  possibility  of  Russia's  becoming 
again  a  monarchy,  there  remains  another  issue  much 
spoken  about  by  the  partisans  of  the  Bolsheviks,  who 
wish  to  prove  the  wisdom  of  letting  them  continue  in 
power.  Their  reasoning,  made  especially  popular  by 
Mr.  H.  G.  Wells,  who  claims  to  know  Russia  as  he 
knows  everything,  is  as  follows:  If  the  Bolsheviks  go, 
what  is  going  to  happen?  Who  will  take  their  place? 
There  may  be  anarchy,  which  is  still  worse.  Russia 
will  have  gotten  rid  of  the  only  strong  government 
which  she  can  have  now,  and  she  will  plunge  into  com- 
plete chaos.  The  Bolshevist  Government  is  at  least  a 
government  and  it  has  shown  itself  to  be  possessed  of 
great  will  power  and  a  remarkable  capacity  for  gov- 
erning. .  .  .  This  cannot  be  said  of  the  other  pro- 
gressive parties,  which  lost  their  power  to  the  Bolshe- 
viks through  sentimentalism  and  lack  of  practical  ex- 
perience. As  the  Bolsheviks  now  promise  to  renounce 
their  pernicious  principles  and  to  evolve,  would  it  not 
be  better  to  let  them  stay  and  give  them  a  chance  to 
become  a  "decent"  government? 

A  part  of  these  suggestions  has  already  been  an- 
swered. There  is  no  chance  of  the  Bolsheviks  "evolv- 


288     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

ing,"  and  their  promises  of  economic  concessions  are 
conditioned — and  limited — on  and  by  the  preservation 
of  their  political  power.  Indeed,  their  "will  to  power" 
is  so  great  that  it  defies  the  will  of  the  whole  popula- 
tion for  them  to  go,  and  that  will  can  only  be  realized 
by  practicing  these  very  methods  which  make  their 
further  stay  impossible.  There  is  a  limit  to  everything, 
even  to  fear.  All  reports  concur  in  the  statement  that 
the  people  are  no  longer  cowed  by  the  Red  Terror  and 
that  the  fear  of  the  Che-Ka  has  been  blunted  since 
that  political  revival  the  beginnings  of  which  are  de- 
scribed above,  in  a  quotation  from  Mr.  S.  Maslov.  It 
is  true  that  most  of  the  parties  that  came  into  power 
under  the  March  Revolution  of  1917  were  unable  to 
keep  in  power,  and  that  this  was  partly  due  to  their 
inexperience.  But  we  saw  them  learn  in  the  process, 
and  it  was  chiefly  the  unpreparedness  of  the  popula- 
tion which  prevented  them  from  applying  their  new 
knowledge  and  caused  the  masses  to  prefer  the  Bolshe- 
vist demagogy  to  real  democratic  strivings.  It  remains 
to  be  proved  that  the  lesson  was  learned  both  by  the 
progressive  parties  and  by  the  population.  This  can 
only  be  proved  by  events,  but  in  the  meanwhile  I  can 
refer  to  the  new  state  of  mind  among  the  Russian 
masses,  which  is  characterized  above.  Is  it  true  that 
there  is  nobody  left  in  Russia  to  prevent  anarchy  since 
all  the  non-Bolshevist  intellectuals  have  been  exter- 
minated or  have  fled  for  their  lives?  No.  it  is  not  true. 
It  is  not  true  that  underneath  the  Bolshevist  surface 
of  600,000  or  300,000  or  probably  less  of  the  Communist 
Party  there  is  nothing  but  an  amorphous  mass  of  uned- 
ucated and  unconscious  plain  people,  that  will  be 
broken  up  and  strewn  about  like  atoms  after  the  or- 
ganizing upper  layer  is  removed. 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  289 

On  the  contrary,  the  elements  of  cohesion  are  there 
and  many,  and  they  are  ready  to  coagulate  and  to 
crystallize  at  any  moment.  To  illustrate  that  tendency, 
I  shall  quote  a  fact  which  is  universally  known.  I  mean 
the  story  of  the  Moscow  non-Communist  Famine  Com- 
mittee, which  is  already  known  to  you  (Chap.  VIII). 
When  the  Bolsheviks  first  learned  how  unexpectedly 
great  was  the  Russian  disaster  and  how  utterly  helpless 
they  were  to  relieve  it  by  their  own  means,  they  came 
to  the  idea  of  addressing  themselves  just  to  these  non- 
Communist  intellectual  elements  which  are  supposed 
by  some  people  to  be  non-existent.  The  Bolsheviks 
wished  to  use  the  authority  of  these  non-Bolsheviks 
abroad  to  influence  foreign  public  opinion,  and  to  profit 
by  their  connections  in  the  country,  in  order  to  organize 
provincial  branches.  This  appeal  to  the  non-Commun- 
ist elements — which,  however,  was  far  from  generally 
accepted  or  approved  in  their  midst — elicited  such  a 
reverberation  both  outside  and  inside  Russia,  that  the 
Bolsheviks  became  frightened.  Branches  of  the  Mos- 
cow Committee  in  the  provinces  here  and  there  began 
to  be  considered  by  the  population  as  new  organs  of 
administration,  intended  to  take  the  place  of  the  Bol- 
shevist ones.  There  were  cases  (e.g.,  in  the  Province 
of  Ryazan)  where  the  Bolshevist  commissars  proposed 
voluntarily  to  surrender  their  powers.  The  Bolsheviks 
decided  to  cut  short  and  to  put  a  speedy  end  to  the  ex- 
periment which  had  proved  so  dangerous.  In  the  mean- 
while they  saw  that  they  could  negotiate  with  the  outer 
world  without  intermediaries.  And  they  not  only  dis- 
solved the  Moscow  Committee  under  the  futile  pretext 
that  its  members  had  misused  their  power,  but  they 
even  tried  to  convict  them  of  political  crime. 

No,  there  will  neither  be  anarchy  nor  monarchy  in 


290     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Russia  of  to-morrow.  There  will  be  democracy.  It 
will  be  a  peasant  democracy.  Under  an  electoral  law 
based  on  the  principle  of  universal  suffrage — and  no 
other  kind  of  suffrage  is  possible  in  democratic  Russia 
— the  majority  of  the  deputies  in  any  really  popular 
assembly  will  belong  to  the  peasant  class.  From  the 
old  regime  the  peasants  have  learned  to  be  extremely 
suspicious  of  any  member  of  another  class  representing 
their  interests.  I  have  in  mind  an  interesting  descrip- 
tion of  the  elections  at  a  provincial  peasant  conference 
in  Samara,  in  May,  1917.  It  was  very  typical  of  all 
the  peasant  elections.  There  were  in  their  midst  many 
school-teachers  who  had  taken  part  in  the  agrarian 
movement  of  1905-6  and  had  been  punished  by  im- 
prisonment. They  were  all  Social-Revolutionaries,  a 
party  particularly  favored  among  the  peasants  and 
which  received  the  majority  of  votes  to  the  Constituent 
Assembly  at  the  end  of  1917.  But  preference  was  given 
to  a  peasant,  also  a  member  of  that  party,  who  de- 
clared: "Do  not  rely  on  anybody,  either  officials,  or 
priests,  or  white-collar  men.  They  are  wolves  in 
sheep's  skins,  and  the  popular  wave  will  sweep  them 
away.  You  will  be  able  to  tolerate  them  only  then 
when  all  these  white  shirts  will  have  become  dirty  from 
hard  work." 

You  will  now  understand  why,  wherever  popular  elec- 
tions on  the  basis  of  universal  suffrage  were  tried  (like 
in  Siberia,  see  Chap.  X\  the  majority  of  deputies 
elected  were  peasants.  They  are  just  class,  not  party. 
and  their  choice  of  the  party  preferred  will  necessarily 
vary.  It  does  not  mean,  however,  that  they  will  not 
tolerate  any  intellectuals  at  their  side  and  that  the  fate 
of  the  Russian  peasant  republic  will  be  that  of  Bui- 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  291 

garia  under  a  Stambuliisky.  It  only  means  that  they 
will  not  swear  by  the  words  of  the  intellectuals  and  will 
not  permit  the  intellectuals  to  dictate  to  them.  There 
are  groups  of  Russian  intellectuals  who  are  even  now 
known  to  the  peasants  for  their  active  and  useful  work 
among  them.  Since  1861  they  learned  to  know  agrono- 
mists, physicians,  teachers  and  especially  coopera- 
tive workers,  who  all  belong  to  the  Russian  intellect- 
uals and  share  in -their  creed.  They  confide  compara- 
tively less  in  their  priests  whom  they  class,  as -we  have 
just  seen,  with  the  government  officials.  But  even  here 
there  are  exceptions,  and  every  Russian  recollects  the 
brilliant  types  of  democratic  priests  who  were  sent  to 
the  first  Duma  by  the  peasants.  It  is  very  difficult  to 
say  to  what  an  extent  religious  feeling  in  the  villages 
has  deepened  as  a  result  of  the  Bolshevist  propaganda 
and  persecution  against  the  Church.  At  any  rate  noth- 
ing like  secret  mass  services  conducted  in  the  woods, 
like  those  of  the  French  Thermidor,  have  taken  place 
in  Russia,  and  in  general  the  influence  of  the  Orthodox 
clergy  on  the  popular  masses  has  been  far  from  equal 
to  that  of  the  Catholics.  The  religious  development  of 
the  Russian  people,  especially  in  the  South,  has  taken 
to  the  line  of  non-conformity,  but  data  are  lacking  to 
show  how  much  that  religious  movement  has  changed 
or  progressedisince  the  Revolution. 

Coming  back  to  our  subject  of  elections,  I  must  point 
out  that  there  is  at  least  one  group  of  Russian  intel- 
lectuals who  actually  enjoy  the  confidence  of  the 
masses.  I  mean  the  Cooperators.  For  the  time  being, 
as  we  know  (Chap.  XII),  free  cooperation  has  been 
killed  by  the  Bolsheviks  who  made  participation  in  it 
compulsory  for  every  Russian  citizen  and  transformed 


292    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

it  into  a  state  institution.  But  the  personnel  of  the 
former  cooperative  societies  have  mostly  remained  at 
their  posts,  and  they  will  probably  be  the  first  connect- 
ing link  between  the  people  and  the  party  leaders. 
The  Cooperators  tried  to  use  their  sobering  influence  on 
the  extremism  of  the  socialist  parties  as  early  as  the 
middle  of  1917,  when  the  Provisional  Government  was 
nearing  its  end.  Since  that  time  they  have  declared 
themselves  "non-party."  This  position  may  serve  as 
a  medium  for  transforming  the  doctrinaire  socialism  of 
yesterday  into  some  acceptable  political  program  of  to- 
morrow. Private  ownership  of  peasant  land  is  conditio 
sine  qua  non  of  such  a  program.  It  will  be  much  easier 
for  the  "Cadets"  to  adapt  themselves  to  the  new  situa- 
tion as  their  agrarian  program  was  already  working  that 
way.  Unfortunately,  the  use  that  the  "White"  govern- 
ments made  of  that  program  has  very  much  contrib- 
uted to  discrediting  it.  A  reconstruction  of  the  Party 
was  also  necessary  to  get  rid  of  its  opportunist  ele- 
ments, which  evolved  to  the  right  in  1918-1920,  and 
to  give  it  its  initial  democratic  character. 

Under  new  conditions  of  work  among  the  peas- 
ant masses  there  is  always  the  danger  present  that 
demagogy  will  be  substituted  for  democracy.  More 
than  one  "peasant"  party  will  surely  make  its  ap- 
pearance, and  some  adventurous  leaders  may  over- 
bid the  others  and  probably  win.  Some  others,  who 
are  accustomed  to  follow  the  track  of  the  old  in- 
tellectual parties,  reminding  one  of  American  "mug- 
wumps," may  grow  disgusted  and  retreat  from  the 
game.  All  that  is  quite  likely  to  happen,  and  the 
only  remedy  is  a  free  play  of  democratic  institutions.  To 
try  to  forestall  eventual  mistakes  with  new  plots  and 
coups  d'etat  will  not  only  be  undemocratic,  but  with 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  293 

the  masses  awakened  to  political  consciousness  it  will 
simply  prove  impossible. 

There  is  one  more  feature  which  will  characterize 
Russia  of  to-morrow.  I  mean  a  free  agreement  among 
the  nationalities  formerly  incorporated  into  that  huge 
mass  of  an  Empire  of  Eastern  style,  a  "colossus  on  feet 
of  clay."  I  have  mentioned  the  solution  of  the  problem 
which  the  Russian  democratic  parties  consider  as  the 
only  possible,  namely  federation  (Chap.  IV).  I  have 
also  touched  upon  the  generally  peaceful  disposition  of 
the  Russian  masses  who  are  hostile  to  any  aggression, 
offensive  wars  and  alliances.  Under  the  lessons  of  in- 
tervention and  the  Allied  policy  of  contradictions  and 
selfishness  toward  Russia  (Chap.  X),  the  Russian  peas- 
ants will  probably,  and  especially  at  the  beginning,  be 
inclined  to  follow  the  policy  of  entrenchment.  As  I 
have  already  mentioned,  the  national  feeling  is  grow- 
ing among  the  masses,  together  with  a  sense  of  unity 
and  interdependence  of  the  different  parts  of  the  for- 
mer Empire.  I  am  sure  that  they  will  be  satisfied  with 
much  less  than  the  present  Bolshevist  policy  of  re- 
stored and  increased  centralization.  It  is  very  difficult 
to  say  just  where  the  line  will  be  drawn  between  federal 
and  state  competency.  But  there  hardly  can  be  a 
doubt  but  that  these  questions  and  probable  contests 
will  be  settled  peacefully.  Plain  necessity  points  to  the 
solution  of  these  questions  by  free  consent  of  popular 
assemblies  as  the  only  means  for  meeting  the  problem. 

The  federative  structure  of  future  Russia,  the  United 
States  of  Russia,  will  thus  be  one  more  feature  in  com- 
mon between  our  two  nations.  In  the  course  of  my 
discussion,  we  have  found  that  there  are  many  features 
in  common  between  America  and  Russia.  (See  espe- 
cially Chapters  X  and  XL)  The  large  space  they 


294    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

occupy  on  their  respective  continents,  their  unete- 
hausted  natural  resources,  their  expanding  populations 
that  have  passed  through  a  recent  process  of  settlement, 
their  young  or  rejuvenated  psychology,  a  certain  self- 
sufficiency  in  isolation,  simplicity  and  unconventional- 
ity  of  habits  and  a  peaceful  disposition  of  mind,  a  kind 
of  self-respect  welded  with  good-will  towards  other  na- 
tions, a  broad-minded  spirit  open  to  new  developments, 
— all  of  this  is  so  familiar  to  every  Russian  and  Ameri- 
can that  we  almost  understand  each  other  before  we 
study  one  another. 

I  am  sure  that  the  coming  developments  in  our  Rus- 
sia of  to-morrow  will  not  belie  the  expectations  which 
our  great  Revolution  aroused  in  this  country.  I  am 
not  unmindful  of  the  appreciation  of  the  meaning  of 
that  Revolution  which  lies  at  the  bottom  of  the  Ameri- 
can policy  toward  Russia,  the  only  policy  that  is  sound 
and  really  friendly.  I  recollect  Mr.  Root's  various  ex- 
pressions of  that  basic  truth  in  connection  with  his  mis- 
sion to  Revolutionary  Russia.  "We  believe  in  the  com- 
petence of  the  power  of  democracy,"  Mr.  Root  said  at 
the  reception  of  his  mission  by  the  Provisional  Govern- 
ment ;  "in  our  heart  of  hearts  abides  faith  in  the  coming 
of  a  better  world"  of  freedom  and  justice.  And  on  his 
coming  back  from  Russia,  at  the  moment  when  its 
darkest  hour  was  coming,  Mr.  Root  thus  expressed  the 
view  of  the  great  American  democracy :  "We  found  no 
organic  or  incurable  malady  in  the  Russian  democracy. 
Democracies  are  always  in  trouble,  and  we  have  seen 
days  just  as  dark  in  the  progress  of  our  own.  We  must 
remember  that  a  people  in  whom  all  constructive  effort 
had  been  suppressed  for  so  long,  cannot  immediately 
develop  a  genius  for  quick  action.  The  first  stage  is 
necessarily  one  of  debate.  The  solid,  admirable  traits 


RUSSIA  TO-MORROW  295 

in  the  Russian  character  will  pull  the  nation  through 
the  present  crisis." 

I  do  not  undertake  to  prophesy  when  the  end  of  the 
crisis  will  come  or  in  what  way.  But  I  know  that  the 
end  is  near.  When  foreign  observers  of  the  present 
Russia  tell  me  that  nothing  can  happen  and  that  the 
present  regime  is  stable  because  there  is  no  force  there 
to  overthrow  it,  their  evidence  does  not  make  me  less 
hopeful.  I  can  only  tell  a  story.  On  the  eve  of  the 
March  Revolution,  in  February,  1917,  I  sat  at  the  side 
of  Lord  Milner  who  had  been  sent  to  Russia  in  order 
to  learn  whether  it  was  true  that  the  Russian  Revolu- 
tion was  really  approaching.  I  knew  it  was — and  every- 
body knew  it  in  Russia.  We  did  not  know,  as  we  do  not 
know  now,  just  how  and  where  and  when  it  was  going 
to  happen.  But  we  knew  it  was  going  to  happen.  My 
friends  put  me  at  Lord  Milner's  side  on  purpose.  I 
had  to  tell  him,  and  I  told  him  that  the  storm  was  ap- 
proaching, that  if  at  the  last  hour  the  dynasty  would 
not  consent  to  compromise  its  fall  was  inevitable  and 
that  our  Allies  were  the  only  ones  whose  voice  might 
probably  be  heard.  Much  later  I  was  told  that  on  his 
coming  back  to  England  Lord  Milner  reported  in  an 
opposite  sense.  According  to  him,  the  dynasty  was  as 
strongly  rooted  in  the  love  of  the  Russian  people  as  it 
ever  had  been,  no  danger  for  peace  and  order  in  Rus- 
sia was  forthcoming  and  everything  was  all  right.  A 
few  weeks  later  the  dynasty  was  overthrown :  the  Revo- 
lution had  come.  I  recently  read  almost  the  same  asser- 
tions in  Governor  Goodrich 's  article  in  the  New  York 
Times.  Governor  Goodrich  is  an  excellent  observer  and 
I  appreciate  very  much  what  he  has  already  done  for 
Russia.  But  I  happen  to  be  a  Russian.  I  know  the 
psychology  of  our  people.  And  I  say  to  all  who  want 


296    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

to  hear:  Russia  is  ripe  for  a  democratic  change.  The 
change  will  come.  It  will  come  soon.  What  will 
emerge  from  it  will  be — not  the  ancient  regime,  not 
anarchy,  but  a  great  democratic  Russia  of  to-morrow. 


CHAPTER  X. 

RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON. 

Among  the  many  important  results  of  the  World 
War,  perhaps  one  of  the  most  important — and,  prob- 
ably, the  least  expected — is  a  proportional  diminution 
in  the  international  weight  of  Europe  as  compared  with 
other  parts  of  the  civilized  world.  The  center  of  the 
world  politics  is  shifting  from  the  leading  powers  of  the 
Old  World  to  the  West  and  to  the  East:  to  America, 
to  the  British  Dominions,  to  Asia.  A  new  period  in 
the  life  of  humanity  seems  thus  to  open. 

The  great  change  just  mentioned  has  been  recently 
emphasized  by  the  succession  of  the  two  international 
gatherings  in  Paris  and  in  Washington.  On  the  oldest 
site  of  our  old  Europe  the  peace  conference  of  1919 
changed  into  a  "conference  of  victors,"  to  use  President 
Harding's  exact  expression.  Questions  touching  the 
whole  of  humanity  seemed  to  be  somehow  out  of  place 
in  Paris.  Their  place  was  inevitably  taken  by  provi- 
sions to  perpetuate  the  new  "balance"  created  by  vic- 
tory, by  lengthy  disputes  over  every  inch  of  territory 
on  the  newly-built  frontiers,  disputes  centuries  old  and 
overburdened  with  painful  recollections  of  the  remote 
past.  Temporary  adjustments,  necessary  and  useful, 
obscured  the  main  issues  of  the  world  peace.  America 
did  not  seem  to  feel  quite  comfortable  in  the  straits  of 
the  Parisian  disputes.  Paris  seems  to  have  found  itself 
in  a  similar  situation  in  Washington. 

297 


298    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

In  America  it  is  not  Albania,  or  Silesia,  or  Teschen,  or 
Klagenfurt,  or  Hungarian  Burgenland,  that  is  being  dis- 
cussed. The  questions  raised  are  as  large  as  America's 
boundless  plains  or  the  surface  of  the  Pacific.  There 
is  only  one  event  of  the  same  year,  1921,  which  can  be 
compared  with  the  Washington  Conference  in  its  world 
significance:  the  British  Imperial  Conference  of  Au- 
gust. 

Russia  was  absent  both  in  Paris  and  Washington,  as 
there  is  no  government  legally  entitled  to  represent  the 
Russian  people.  But  the  Paris  Conference  began  with 
the  declaration  that  there  can  be  no  peace  in  the 
world,  if  there  is  no  peace  in  Russia,  Unfortunately, 
the  only  means  found  in  Paris  for  bringing  peace  to 
Russia  was  the  inefficacious  and  inadequate  Prinkipo 
proposal.  Accordingly,  the  only  treaty  concluded  with 
Russia  was  the  British  Trade  Agreement  of  March, 
1921.  The  Washington  Conference  was  also  preceded 
by  a  declaration  on  Russia.  But  it  was  a  tentative 
enunciation  of  a  new  principle  in  international  politics, 
the  principle  of  "moral  trusteeship."  It  was  not 
America's  fault  if  it  did  not  materialize. 

We,  Russians,  have  nothing  to  lose  from  the  shifting 
of  the  international  politics  to  larger  regions  of  the 
world.  Russia  herself  is  a  large  place  in  the  world: 
quite  one-sixth  of  the  world's  earth  surface.  If  be- 
tween Alaska  and  New  York  the  difference  of  tune  is 
about  five  hours,  from  Petrograd  to  Bering  Strait  the 
distance  is  twice  as  much,  i.e.,  ten  hours.  The  popula- 
tion of  Russia,  even  in  its  present  dismembered  state, 
is  about  130  millions.  We  are  Europeans,  but  we  are 
also  Asiatic.  Some  foreign  scientists  and  some  Russian 
patriots  call  us  "Eurasians."  We  are  thus  of  both  con- 
tinents. Our  absence  is  equally  felt  in  both  hemi- 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  299 

spheres,  and  we  are  equally  needed  for  reestablishing 
the  equilibrium  in  Europe  and  in  Asia:  in  Europe  to 
equipoise  France  in  her  contest  with  imperialistic  Ger- 
many; in  Asia  to  equipoise  the  United  States  in  its 
developing  contest  with  Japanese  imperialism.  This 
is,  in  a  nutshell,  the  position  of  Russia  in  the  world. 
Russia  is  very  sick  just  now.  But  Russia  will  recover. 
She  will  recover  soon.  And  no  international  decision 
affecting  her  interests  can  be  taken  in  her  absence  with- 
out endangering  the  future  world  peace. 

Russia  is  legally  absent  from  international  gather- 
ings. But  she  is  morally  present:  at  least,  she  ought 
to  be.  And  if  it  is  true  that  there  can  be  no  peace  in 
tb^  world  without  peace  in  Russia,  the  question  natur- 
aliy  presents  itself:  what  can  Russia  contribute  to  the 
peace  of  the  world? 

Many  foreign  observers  have  called  the  Russian  peo- 
ple "the  most  peaceful  nation  in  the  world."  And,  in- 
deed, peace  is  one  of  the  greatest  requirements  and 
will  be  one  of  the  greatest  acquisitions  of  the  rising  de- 
mocracy in  Russia,  Russia  is  not  only  temporarily 
peaceful  because  she  is  utterly  exhausted  and  because 
she  needs  a  long  rest  to  recover,  Russia  is  naturally 
peaceful  because  this  is  the  normal  state  of  mind  of 
her  people.  Probably  it  is  due  to  its  natural  surround- 
ings,— just  a  Middle-American — as  is  the  case  with 
this  country.  A  Russian  of  Middle  Russia,  if  left  to 
himself,  would  not  show  much  interest  in  active  for- 
eign politics,  in  wars  or  alliances.  Leo  Tolstoy,  the 
great  connoisseur  of  the  Russian  soul,  tells  us  an  amus- 
ing story.  Monsieur  Deroulede,  the  well-known  French 
patriot  and  nationalist,  came  to  see  him  at  his  country 
home  and  asked  Tolstoy  to  make  him  acquainted  with 
some  Russian  peasants.  Tolstoy  went  with  Mr.  De- 


300     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

roulede  to  the  fields  and  they  met  a  peasant.  Tolstoy 
took  pains  to  explain  to  the  Russian  moujik  who  Mr. 
Deroulede  was,  and  his  visitor  in  his  turn  tried  to  prove 
to  the  peasant  just  why  it  was  so  exceedingly  important 
to  take  back  Alsace-Lorraine  from  Germany  and  why 
Russia  had  to  help  France.  The  peasant  listened  at- 
tentively, and  then  he  said :  "There  is  land  enough  for 
everybody  in  the  wide  world.  Why  should  we  quar- 
rel?" Of  course,  the  peasant  was  not  quite  up  to  date 
in  his  ideas  on  foreign  politics, — and  now  he  has  to  pay 
for  it.  But  this  is  how  he  actually  felt. 

Contrary  to  the  assertions  of  Russia's  enemies  and 
her  own  extremists,  the  Russian  people  were  never  "im- 
perialistic." Like  so  many  people  in  America,  Russia 
was  in  happy  possession  of  that  privilege  longed-for  by 
many:  she  could  stay  quietly  at  home  because  she  felt 
self-sufficient.  What  was  it  that  forced  Germany  to 
become  imperialistic  and  aggressive?  What  is  now  the 
cause  of  Japan's  growing  desire  for  expansion?  The 
first  cause  is  over-population,  which  makes  it  necessary 
to  emigrate  and  to  colonize.  The  second  cause  is  over- 
production, which  compels  the  race  for  new  markets 
and  for  such  colonies  as  can  supply  needed  raw  ma- 
terials. The  result  is — competition ;  competition  spells 
armaments  and  naval  programs,  and  armaments  mean 
increased  taxation.  This  is — imperialism.  Now,  no- 
body could  charge  Russia  with  over-production  and 
over-population.  Russia  never  possessed  colonies,  and, 
accordingly,  never  had  any  colonial  policy.  Russia  is 
one  great  continuous  continental  block,  covering  a 
great  part  of  two  continents.  Raw  materials  can  be 
found  at  home  in  abundance.  Their  supply  is  secured 
for  centuries  by  unexhausted — and  partly  unexplored 
— richness  of  soil  and  mineral  wealth.  The  internal 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  301 

market  is  so  large,  and  so  capable  of  extension,  that  it 
never  could  be  satiated  with  products  of  national  in- 
dustry alone.  Foreign  capital  is  necessary  and  desir- 
able, under  one  single  condition — that  it  does  not  treat 
Russia  as  a  colony,  a  "Wirtschaftsgebiet."  I  must  add 
that  the  Germans  tried  to  do  that,  and  they  enforced 
on  Russia  the  unfavorable  commercial  treaties  of  1894 
and  1904.  Even  now  they  may  be  the  first  to  come  to 
regenerated  Russia,  owing  to  their  better  knowledge  of 
Russia's  resources,  better  conditions  of  credit,  a  ready 
network  of  commercial  agents,  etc.  So  much  the  more 
do  we  need  American  capital  to  come  to  our  rescue,  and 
we  want  you  to  learn  to  know  Russia  as  Germany 
knows  it. 

You  see  now  that  Russia  has  nothing  to  do  with  that 
kind  of  imperialism  which  brings  about  armaments  and 
wars — and  also  systems  of  alliances  and  "balances  of 
power."  An  international  system  under  which  there 
would  be  no  new  distribution  of  nations  between  two 
competing  camps,  would  be  the  most  desirable  to  Rus- 
sia. You  may  object  that  Russian  politics  had  been 
aggressive  in  the  past.  That  is  also  not  quite  exact. 
The  Russian  Tsars  very  rarely  waged  wars  for  purely 
national  interests  and  mostly  remained  passive  in 
choosing  or  changing  their  systems  of  alliances.  With 
the  exception  of  the  reign  of  Peter  the  Great  and  Cath- 
erine II,  most  of  the  Russian  wars  were  fought  for 
other  people's  interests.  Peter's  heiresses  made  Russia 
play  the  part  of  a  European  condottiere.  Under  Alex- 
ander I  and  Nicholas  I  Russia  defended  the  idea  of 
World  Legitimism  and  World  Christian  Brotherhood: 
it  was  then  understood  as  expressed  in  a  monarchical 
League  of  Nations.  Whatever  its  reactionary  applica- 
tions, the  idea  was  intended  to  serve  international 


302     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

order  and  peace.  Alexander  II  fought  for  the  liberation 
of  the  Balkan  Slavs,  and  this  was  also  the  formal  rea- 
son for  Russia's  participation  in  the  recent  World  War, 
where  Russia's  interests  were  the  least  important.  The 
late  German  chancellor,  von  Bethmann-Hollweg,  tried 
to  prove  that  the  responsibility  for  this  last  war  rests 
with  the  Russian  Minister  Sazonov,  because  he  wished 
to  annex  Constantinople.  Bethmann-Hollweg  must 
have  known  that  Russia's  claim  for  the  possession  of 
the  Straits  was  posterior  to  the  beginning  of  war, 
and  that  this  claim  was  chiefly  provoked  by  the  German 
scheme  of  a  Berlin-Bagdad  route  through  the  subdued 
Middle  Europe.  It  stands  and  falls  with  that  compet- 
ing scheme.  As  there  is  no  more  German  danger  for  the 
Straits,  we  are  now  again  the  best  of  friends  with  Tur- 
key. We  are  also  likely  to  become  again  the  best  of 
friends  with  China,  in  spite  of  certain  imperialistic 
exceptions  from  our  generally  peaceful  politics  there 
to  which  I  shall  refer. 

To  state  it  once  more,  the  international  position  of 
Russia  does  not  necessarily  commit  her  to  any  special 
alliance.  Russia  would  fain  substitute  any  kind  of  So- 
ciety of  Nations  for  the  existing  systems  of  world  equi- 
librium which  force  her  to  undesirable  activities.  We 
fully  understand  America's  cautious  attitude  towards 
the  "Covenant"  of  the  League  of  Nations.  We  might 
have  been  obliged  to  make  some  similar  reservations,  if 
we  had  had  to  consider  the  same  question.  But,  Cove- 
nant or  no  Covenant,  this  way  or  another,  some  legal 
way  must  be  found  for  a  stable  international  organiza- 
tion of  peace.  Mr.  Hughes  kindly  reminded  the  Wash- 
ington Conference  in  his  famous  introductory  speech 
that  Russia  was  the  first  to  urge  disarmament  and 
peaceful  settlement  of  international  disputes,  in  her 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  303 

proposal  to  convoke  the  first  Hague  Conference  in 
1899.  We  also  greatly  appreciate  the  part  that  America 
played  in  promoting  that  great  .scheme  at  the  Paris 
Conference.  Perhaps  it  was  necessary  to  recede,  in 
order  the  better  to  advance.  That  is  why,  when  a  new 
attempt  in  the  same  line  was  made  in  Washington  with 
the  obvious  aim  of  improving  upon  the  last  one,  we, 
Russians,  enthusiastically  greeted  it,  and  we  felt  in 
complete  agreement  with  the  aim  of  the  Government 
of  this  country. 

But  we  have,  moreover,  a  special  reason  for  being 
grateful  to  American  statesmanship.  We  think  that 
America's  special  policy  towards  Russia  has  been 
a  sound  policy  which  has  tended  very  much  to  deepen 
the  moral  ties  that  unite  both  democracies.  In  a  pre- 
vious chapter  (see  Chapter  IV)  I  pointed  out  that  it 
has  become  a  tradition  of  American  diplomacy  to  de- 
fend Russia's  unity  from  all  attempts  at  dismembering 
and  weakening  Russia.  This  view  is  a  logical  deduc- 
tion from  the  fundamental  conception  as  to  the  sover- 
eign rights  of  the  Russian  people.  It  was  also  to  the 
Russian  people  that  the  United  States  addressed  itself, 
over  the  heads  of  changing  and  temporary  governments, 
local  and  all-Russian. 

Let  me  remind  you  of  some  of  these  declarations,  in 
chronological  order.  As  early  as  February  7,  1920,  the 
United  States  declared  that  it  did  not  recognize  the 
decision  of  the  Supreme  Council,  regarding  the  inde- 
pendence of  Georgia  and  Azerbaidjan.  President  Wil- 
son's note  of  March  24, 1920,  categorically  declared  that 
"the  question  of  a  government  for  Constantinople 
should  remain  open  until  Russia  is  able  to  participate 
in  its  discussion"  and  that  "no  plan  concerning  the 


304    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

future  of  Constantinople  which  did  not  take  in  con- 
sideration the  interests  of  Russia,  should  be  successful." 
On  July  28,  1920,  the  United  States  addressed  a  Note  to 
Japan  which  is  particularly  important  in  connection 
with  to-day's  problems.  The  United  States  objected 
to  the  occupation  of  the  Russian  part  of  Sakhalin,  the 
continued  occupation  of  Vladivostok  and  of  other  Si- 
berian territories  by  the  Japanese  troops.1  Then  fol- 
lowed, on  August  10,  that  splendid  and  admirably 
worded  Note  of  Secretary  of  State  Colby,  answering 
Italy's  demand  for  a  statement  of  America's  views  as 
to  the  Russian  advance  into  Poland.  "The  United 
States,"  Mr.  Colby  said,  "is  confident  that  restored, 
free  and  united  Russia  will  again  take  a  leading  place 
in  the  world,  joining  with  the  other  free  nations  in 
upholding  peace  and  orderly  justice."  We  thankfully 
endorse  this  judgment. 

It  is  especially  important  to  emphasize  that  this  was 
not  at  all  a  party  policy.  The  republican  administra- 
tion has  developed  the  same  principles  of  Russian  pol- 
icy as  were  formulated  by  its  democratic  predecessors. 
When  the  "Far  Eastern  Republic  of  Chita"  (Bolshe- 
vist) asked  to  be  allowed  to  send  delegates  to  Washing- 
ton, the  American  legation  at  Pekin  transmitted  on 
September  19,  1921,  the  following  answer: 

"In  the  absence  of  a  single  recognized  Russian  Gov- 
ernment the  protection  of  the  legitimate  Russian  inter- 
ests must  devolve  as  a  moral  trusteeship  upon  the 
whole  conference.  It  is  regrettable  that  the  confer- 
ence, for  reasons  quite  beyond  the  control  of  the  par- 
ticipating powers,  is  to  be  deprived  of  the  advantage  of 
Russian  cooperation  in  its  deliberations,  but  it  is  not 

*See  below,  the  note  of  May  31, 1921,  confirming  that  mentioned  in 
the  text. 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  305 

to  be  conceived  that  the  conference  will  take  decisions 
prejudicial  to  legitimate  Russian  interests  or  which 
would  in  any  manner  violate  Russian  rights.  It  is  the 
hope  and  expectation  of  the  government  of  the  United 
States  that  the  conference  will  establish  general  prin- 
ciples of  international  action  which  will  deserve  and 
have  the  support  of  the  people  of  eastern  Siberia  and 
of  all  Russia  by  reason  of  their  justice  and  efficacy  in 
the  settlement  of  outstanding  difficulties." 

The  assurances  thus  given  from  such  a  high  place 
were  more  than  sufficient  for  us  to  feel  certain  that 
legitimate  Russian  interests  would  not  be  neglected  or 
interfered  with,  in  such  decisions  or  international  action 
as  the  present  conference  was  likely  to  take.  But  what 
are  the  "legitimate  interests"  of  Russia?  What  are 
especially  the  legitimate  interests  "of  the  people  of 
eastern  Siberia"?  The  question,  once  raised,  deserves 
most  serious  consideration  as  the  fate  of  the  World 
peace  may  hang  on  its  solution. 

It  is  an  open  secret  that  legitimate  interests  of  Rus- 
sia in  Siberia  can  only  be  interfered  with  by  the  lead- 
ing power  of  the  Far  East:  by  Japan.  Japan,  after 
Germany,  is  now  the  storm  center  and  the  weather- 
glass of  the  World.  We  must  look  to  Japan  for  a 
solution. 

What  does  Japan  want  in  Siberia?  Not  to  seem 
biased,  let  me  quote  a  Japanese  answer.  It  is  that  of 
Mr.  Yoshi  S.  Kuno,  an  assistant  Professor  of  the 
Oriental  Department  of  the  University  of  California. 
The  author  "requests  the  reader  to  bear  in  mind  that 
the  material  contained"  in  his  book  ("What  Japan 
Wants")  does  not  reflect  his  "personal  ideas  and  poli- 
cies," but,  "the  state  of  public  opinion  in  Japan."  We 
shall  see  that,  moreover,  it  reflects  the  present  policy  of 


306     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

the  Japanese  Government,  which  works  in  agreement 
with  the  public  opinion. 

"If  America  is  the  white  man's  land,"  Mr.  Kuno 
says,  "Japan  would  inquire  whether  Siberia  is  not  the 
yellow  man's  land.  Though  Siberia  to-day  constitutes 
a  part  of  the  Russian  Empire,  yet  in  order  to  decide 
whether  Siberia  is  politically  a  component  part  of 
Russia,  one  must  turn  to  history."  Russia  "finally 
succeeded  in  bringing  the  whole  of  this  great  barren 
waste  peopled  by  Asiatic  tribes  under  her  control.  She 
even  occupied  Sakhalin.  .  .  .  With  the  downfall  of 
the  Russian  Empire  .  .  .  Japan  reoccupied  the  whole 
of  Sakhalin  Island  and  has  assumed  military  control 
both  of  Vladivostok  and  an  immense  region  round 
about.  Now  that  the  doors  of  all  Anglo-Saxon  nations 
are  closed  against  her  emigrants  and  she  must  seek 
some  other  outlet  for  her  population,  it  is  but  natural 
that  Japan  should  raise  the  question  whether  Siberia 
may  not  be  the  land  of  the  yellow  man." 

We  cannot  but  feel  thankful  to  the  author  for  his 
exceptional  sincerity.  Mr.  Kuno  is  equally  sincere  and 
outspoken  in  disclosing  for  us  the  underlying  motives 
of  the  Japanese  aspirations.  They  can  be  summed  up 
as  follows: 

1.  "Japan  wants  to  make  of  Vladivostok  an  open  port 
similar  to  Hongkong.    Then,  in  the  course  of  time,  Vladi- 
vostok would  become  a  port  through  which  Japan  could 
establish  the  shortest  possible  trade  route  to  Europe.    Japan 
feels  that  the  right  to  establish  such  a  trade  route  is  the 
smallest  reward  that  she  could  possibly  ask  for  her  financial 
and  military  efforts." 

2.  "In  order  to  avoid  closer  proximity  (with  Bolshevism) , 
Japan  wants  some  independent  State  established  between 
herself  and  Bolshevist  Russia.     This  explains  why  Japan 
wants  all  nations  to  recognize  the  Far  East  Republic  at 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  307 

Chita  in  Siberia.  She  has  already  sent  her  representatives 
to  the  Chita  Government  and  has  entered  into  negotiations 
with  it  regarding  numerous  concessions  in  Siberia,  along  the 
lines  of  mining,  fishing  and  industry." 

3.  "Of  course,  Japan  also  wants  elbow  room  in  Siberia 
for  her  surplus  population.    However,  the  sending  of  emi- 
grants ...  is  not  a  pressing  question  with  the  Govern- 
ment just  now.  ...  A  more  vital  question  is  where  she  will 
be  able  to  obtain  a  constant  supply  of  raw  materials  for  her 
rapidly  growing  industries.   .    .    .   China  is,  of  course,  an 
inexhaustible  mine,  but  at  the  same  time  this  mine  is  being 
worked  by  all  nations  and  even  China  itself,  with  her  mil- 
lions of  laborers,  is  beginning  to  manufacture  on  an  unpre- 
cedented scale.    Siberia,  on  the  other  hand,  is  both  thinly 
populated  and  practically  unexploited.    Moreover,  this  vast 
country  lies  just  across  the  Sea  of  Japan  and  from  its  geo- 
graphical propinquity  would  seem  to  be  the  natural  source 
of  raw  material." 

4.  The  next  point  is  especially  important  as  we  shall  see 
later  on.    "Japan  wants  to  make  of  the  Sea  of  Japan  a  Japa- 
nese inland  sea,  just  as  the  ancient  Romans  made  a  Roman 
sea  of  the  Mediterranean  in  the  time  of  the  Roman  Empire. 
From  a  Japanese  standpoint,  such  an  undertaking  is   a 
natural  one.    The  Sea  of  Japan  is  closed  on  the  south  by  a 
very  narrow  channel  known  as  the  Straits  of  Korea,  which  is 
Japanese  water  to-day.    On  the  north,  there  is  but  a  narrow 
strip  of  water  between  the  mainland  and  Sakhalin  Island. 
This  may  be  crossed  in  small  boats.    To  the  east  lies  the 
chain  of  Japanese  islands  and  to  the  west  stretch  the  coasts 
of  Korea  and  Siberia.    Through  this  sea  Japan  might  ob- 
tain two  approaches  to  Europe,  one  through  the  Korean 
port  of  Fusan,  and- the  other  through  Vladivostok.     Ex- 
pansion into  Siberia  would,  therefore,  be  more  natural  and 
more  profitable  than  the  sending  of  emigrants  across  the 
Pacific  to  distant  lands.    In  this  way  also  Japan  would  be 
spared  the  embarrassment  of  coming  into  unpleasant  con- 
flict with  Occidental  nations." 

The  inference  is  quite  obvious.    Preserve  your  Mon- 
roe Doctrine  for  yourself,  but  let  us  (the  Japanese) 


308  •  RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

have  our  own  Monroe  Doctrine  for  the  Far  East.  If 
not,  here  is  the  perspective.  I  quote  again  from  that 
obliging  gentleman's  book : 

5.  "Although  war  between  Japan  and  the  United  States, 
according  to  the  present  outlook,  seems  well-nigh  impossible, 
still  none  can  say  with  assurance  that  permanent  peace 
can  long  be  maintained  between  the  two  nations.  However, 
if  war  should  come,  the  cause  thereof  will  not  be  the  Japa- 
nese question  in  the  United  States,  but  rather  with  regard 
to  some  situation  in  the  Orient  itself.  Japan  might  take 
up  arms  should  the  United  States  adopt  some  policy  that 
would  stand  in  the  way  of  Japan  in  obtaining  raw  materials 
from  China  or  Siberia.  Interference  of  this  sort  would 
threaten  not  only  the  sources  of  the  national  prosperity  of 
Japan,  but  even  the  very  existence." 

This  is  also  quite  clear.  This  is  just  how  the  Ger- 
mans defended  their  right  to  a  "place  in  the  sun,"  a 
new  "Machtpolitik."  But  Mr.  Kuno  forgets  to  repro- 
duce one  more  argument  for  taking  possession  of  the 
Sea  of  Japan,  which  is,  probably,  more  obvious  to  mili- 
tary strategists  than  to  learned  scholars.  It  is  this. 
Just  in  the  event  of  an  "unpleasant  conflict"  with  the 
United  States,  for  whatever  reason  it  be,  Japan  does 
not  want  the  United  States  to  find  its  ally  in  Russia. 
That  is  why  even  before  the  necessity  of  emigration  is 
keenly  felt  by  the  Japanese  nation,  i.e.,  before  a  natu- 
ral pretext  presents  itself,  Japan  wants  her  "elbow 
room"  in  Siberia  and  wishes  to  bottle  up  the  Sea  of 
Japan.  Her  aim  is  obviously  not  so  much  economic  as 
military.  She  wants  to  keep  Russia  away  from  the  Sea 
altogether,  in  order  to  have  her  rear  secured.  That  is 
also  why  the  only  place  in  Asia  and  on  the  Sea,  which 
is  actually  a  "white  man's  land,"  must  be  turned  into  a 
"yellow  man's  land." 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  309 

You  will  excuse  my  rather  lengthy  quotations  from 
Mr.  Kuno's  book.  This  is  practically  the  shortest  way 
to  make  known  Japan's  real  attitude  in  the  Far  East- 
ern question  and  thus  to  introduce  us  to  a  discussion 
of  Japanese  acts  and  arguments.  Acts  often  precede 
arguments  in  Japan. 

Let  us  first  take  up  that  question  of  the  "white"  or 
"yellow"  man's  land  in  Siberia.  One  might  with  equal 
reason  call  America  the  "red  man's  land."  Siberia  is, 
indeed,  the  only  girdle  of  the  white  man's  settlement  in 
Asia  which  brings  the  white  race  to  the  Pacific.  But  is 
it  a  product  of  sheer  conquest?  Is  the  white  race  in 
the  minority  in  Siberia?  Is  the  white  settlement  as 
recent  as  the  last  period  of  the  world  colonial  policy? 

Such  is  by  no  means  the  case.  Siberia  is  closely 
welded  to  European  Russia  by  a  secular  process  of  set- 
tlement. That  process  is  contemporaneous  with  the 
settlement  of  America.  It  began  at  the  end  of  the  XVI 
Century,  and  in  the  XVII  Century  the  main  outlines 
of  colonization  were  firmly  laid  down.  The  process 
was  slow  and  steady.  It  was  a  continuous  stream  of 
Russian  settlers  which  found  Siberia,  indeed,  "a  great 
waste,"  as  Mr.  Kuno  puts  it,  and  its  aboriginal  popula- 
tion as  scarce  and  scattered  as  behooved  the  tribes  of 
hunters  and  nomads.  The  Russian  settler  brought  to 
Siberia  his  habits  of  husbandry  and  introduced  seden- 
tary life. 

Was  it  the  "imperialistic"  Government  of  ancient 
Moscow  which  was  responsible  for  the  "annexation"  of 
the  Siberian  wilderness?  No,  this  was  not  the  case. 
The  Muscovite  Government  of  the  XVII  Century  was 
by  far  not  strong  enough  to  guide  the  process  of  settle- 
ment. It  only  tried  to  step  into  the  shoes  of  the  set- 
tlers. They  were  free  Russian  Cossacks,  of  the  Great 


310    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Russian  stock,  who  crossed  the  Urals  in  the  second  half 
of  the  XVI  Century  and  who  in  another  half  century 
passed  through  all  Siberia,  following  the  confluents  of 
the  chief  Siberian  rivers.  In  about  1650  they  found 
themselves  at  the  mouth  of  the  Amur,  on  the  Pacific 
coast.  The  peasant  followed  the  Cossack,  and  the  gov- 
ernment official  followed  the  peasant.  The  Siberian 
population,  however,  never  knew  serfdom  and  the  sub- 
missiveness  of  the  Russian  center,  as  the  land-owners 
had  no  opportunity  to  make  Siberian  lands  their  own. 
Siberians  always  remained  splendid  specimens  of  the 
Northern  robust  race,  a  liberty-loving  folk.  They  are 
Russian  republicans,  a  forecast  of  what  free  Russia  is 
going  to  become. 

What  was  the  attitude  of  the  settlers  towards  the 
local  population?  Of  course,  the  Cossacks  had  come  as 
conquerors  and  economic  exploiters.  But  the  peasants 
came  as  peaceful  neighbors.  We  had  no  long  wars  of 
conquest  in  Siberia.  The  difference  in  civilization  was 
not  so  great  between  the  Russian  settlers  and  the  Si- 
berian aborigines,  as  it  was  at  the  same  time  between 
the  Anglo-Saxons  and  the  Indians.  There  was  inter- 
marriage, mutual  amalgamation,  and  the  physical  type 
of  the  Siberian  Russian  was  slowly  changing  in  the 
midst  of  the  yellow  Tungus  and  Mongol.  However,  the 
white  race  asserted  itself.  An  appropriate  term  to  char- 
acterize the  cultural  significance  of  Russian  settlement 
in  Siberia  was  found  by  Sir  Harry  Johnston.  He  called 
it  "Aryanization."  Russian  settlers,  as  he  rightly 
stated,  "were  repeating  history,"  or  rather,  prehistory, 
by  "once  more  Aryanizing  Northern  and  Central  Asia." 
The  difference  was  that  they  were  now  moving  in  the 
opposite  direction :  from  West  to  East. 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  311 

The  process  went  on  throughout  the  last  three  cen- 
turies, and  the  last  stage  of  it  was  recorded  by  foreign 
observers.  Let  me  quote  from  an  American  book,  by 
Mr.  Beveridge,  on  "The  Russian  Advance"  in  Asia.1 
Mr.  Beveridge,  while  in  Vladivostok,  had  a  talk  with  an 
"intelligent  Russian  commercial  man."  This  is  how  the 
latter  represents  that  last  stage  of  "Aryanization"  of 
the  Far  East.  "Yes,"  said  Mr.  Beveridge's  informant, 
referring  to  the  prairies  north  of  Vladivostok,  "these 
fields  were  all  once  occupied  by  Chinamen ;  but  now,  as 
you  see,  they  are  as  fully  occupied  by  the  Russian  peas- 
ant, his  wife  and  his  children,  as  if  this  land  had  always 
been  a  part  of  Russia.  That  has  not  been  so  very  long 
ago,  either.  It  is  quite  impossible  to  explain  the  re- 
tirement of  the  Chinese.  There  was  no  friction  between 
the  people  and  the  Russian  peasant."  Mr.  Beveridge 
draws  a  correct  conclusion.  "This  singular  fact,"  he 
says,  "which  repeats  itself  in  many  different  phases, 
is  one  of  the  most  significant  truths  in  the  peculiar 
process  of  Russian  expansion:  never  any  friction  be- 
tween the  Russian  and  the  native."  This  fact  has 
often  been  confirmed  by  other  observers.  The  ex- 
planation can  be  found  partly  in  the  circumstance, 
just  mentioned  by  me,  of  closer  standards  of  culture, 
partly  in  a  particular  adaptability  of  Russian  settlers 
to  new  surroundings,  their -generally  peaceful  disposi- 
tion, free  from  any  nationalist  bias.  This  is  what  for 
centuries  made  Russians  born  colonizers. 

The  Far  East  was  thus  made  an  integral  part  of 
Russia.  The  Russian  population  was  increasing  at  a 
remarkably  speedy  rate.  Let  us  take  the  last  reliable 
statistical  data,  the  census  of  1897  and  the  estimated 

1  The  book  was  published  under  that  title  in  1904. 


312    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

figures  for  1915.    The  population  of  the  whole  of  Si- 
beria was: 

1897 9,196,000 

1915 14,396,000 

The  figures  for  the  white  population,  taken  sepa- 
rately, are  as  follows : 

1897 5,291,000 

1915 10,771,000  (estimated,  the  lowest  figure) 

The  white  population  doubled  in  eighteen  years, 
which,  of  course,  can  only  be  explained  by  the  very 
strong  tide  of  emigration  from  European  Russia  after 
the  building  of  the  Trans-Siberian  Railway  in  1896. 
The  number  of  emigrants  for  that  period  is  more  than 
3,000,000. 

The  growth  of  the  population  is  still  more  marked 
as  we  go  from  West  to  East.  These  are  the  figures 
for  the  provinces  to  the  East  of  Lake  Baikal : 

1897  1915 

(in  Thousands)  (in  Thousands) 
Total  White  Per  Cent.  Total  White  Per  Cent. 

Transbaikalia  .  672    446         68  972     698        72 

Amur   120    104         87  261     243        93 

Maritime  Prov- 
i  n  c  e,  Kam- 
chatka, Sak- 
halin   223  126  56  707  610  86 


1015    676         67          1940   1551        79 

Taken  as  a  whole,  the  population  also  doubled  (from 
1  to  nearly  2  millions)  in  the  eastern  part  of  Siberia. 
But  in  the  provinces  now  under  Japanese  control 
(Maritime  Province,  Kamchatka,  Northern  Sakhalin) 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  313 

the  white  population  multiplied  almost  five  times,  while 
increasing  its  proportion  to  the  alien  minority  from  56 
per  cent,  to  86  per  cent.  For  the  whole  of  eastern 
Siberia  the  white  population  increased  from  two-thirds 
to  four-fifths  of  the  whole. 

You  can  now  see  whether  it  is  fair  for  Japan  "to  raise 
the  question  whether  Siberia  may  not  be  the  land  of 
the  yellow  man."  Siberia — just  like  Canada  whose 
population  is  one-half  of  Siberia's — is  the  product  of 
the  white  man's  thrift,  wrested  from  nature  by  the  infi- 
nite toil  and  endurance  of  the  Russian  squatters, 
through  a  process  lasting  for  more  than  three  centuries. 
Siberia  cannot  be  used  by  the  Japanese  for  settlement. 
Mr.  Kuno  conscientiously  tells  us  that  the  question  of 
emigration  to  Siberia  is  not  at  all  a  "pressing  ques- 
tion with  the  Japanese  Government  just  now."  And, 
indeed,  the  Japanese  have  proved  to  be  poor  colonizers 
even  under  better  conditions  of  climate  and  soil.  So 
far  as  that  question  of  settlement  is  concerned,  there 
is  no  danger  of  Siberia  becoming  a  "yellow  man's 
land." 

But  there  is  another  side  to  that  desire  to  occupy 
Siberian  territories.  The  Japanese  want  Siberia  as  a 
colony  for  raw  materials,  foodstuffs  and  minerals.  They 
want,  moreover,  to  monopolize  this  colony,  as  con- 
trasted with  China,  which  "is  being  worked  by  all  na- 
tions" and,  into  the  bargain,  is  developing  its  own  in- 
dustry. It  is,  of  course,  very  well  known  that  Siberia 
is  exceedingly  rich  in  natural  resources.  Immense 
quantities  of  iron  ore,  as  yet  untouched,  exist  in  the 
Maritime  Provinces,  particularly  north  of  Vladivostok, 
between  Olga  and  Vladimir  Bay;  the  deposits  lie  only 
about  ten  miles  from  the  coast.  Sakhalin  coal  can  be 
easily  brought  to  these  well  sheltered  bays.  Enormous 


314    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

quantities  of  coal  are  found  also  in  the  Amur  Province. 
Gold,  silver,  copper  and  oil  can  also  be  found  in  the 
same  Far  Eastern  provinces.  The  extent  of  the  for- 
ests in  the  Amur  and  Maritime  Provinces  is  estimated 
at  509,000,000  acres,  and  the  best  sorts  of  timber  can 
be  found  there.  As  soon  as  the  World  War  began,  a 
host  of  Japanese  surveyors  and  investigators  rushed 
into  the  Russian  Far  East,  and  especially  to  the  Mari- 
time Province  coast  and  to  the  Russian  part  of  Sakha- 
lin. All  the  reports  of  Russian  geologists  respecting  the 
oil  and  mineral  wealth  of  that  part  were  to  be  verified. 
"Our  Mining  Department  and  Geological  Commission 
are  literally  besieged  by  the  Japanese  who  are  con- 
stantly asking  for  varied  information  and  are  putting 
in  claims,"  said  a  Russian  writer  (in  the  beginning  of 
1917). 

It  was  still  more  immediately  important  for  the  Japa- 
nese to  make  use  of  the  abundance  of  fish  along  the 
coasts  of  the  Maritime  Province,  Okhotsk  and  Kam- 
chatka. As  a  result  of  their  wasteful  and  predatory  ex- 
ploitation, their  own  fish  supplies  along  the  shore  of 
Japan  were  getting  exhausted  at  the  end  of  the  XIX 
century.  But,  at  the  same  time,  their  fishing  rights  in 
the  Russian  waters  of  Sakhalin  and  the  Amur  regions 
had  been  limited  by  the  regulations  of  1899-1900,  in  or- 
der to  safeguard  the  rights  of  the  Russian  population 
and  to  prevent  the  rapid  exhaustion  of  fish  supplies.  It 
was  especially  dangerous  for  Kamchatka  as  here  the 
native  population  and  the  Russian  settlers  lived  exclu- 
sively on  fish.  Fish  was  also  the  food  of  their  dogs — 
a  necessary  component  element  of  their  economy; 
clothing,  shoes,  sails,  etc.,  were  being  made  from  fish 
skins.  No  agriculture  can  thrive  in  these  regions,  and 
the  population  had  to  become  fishermen  and  hunters. 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 315 

But  control  over  fishing  was  especially  difficult  there, 
and  illegal  fishing  by  the  Japanese  was  largely  spread. 
To  check  that,  supplementary  regulations  were  pub- 
lished on  Nov.  29,  1901,  which  confined  the  Japanese 
fishing  rights  to  Southern  Sakhalin  and  the  southem 
part  of  the  Primorsk  coast.  The  Japanese  answered 
by  threatening  the  Russian  fishing  industry  with  high 
import  duties  and  by  establishing  in  1902  a  powerful 
"Union  of  Fishermen"  in  Hakodate,  which  deprived 
Russian  fishermen  of  any  individual  Japanese  help  with 
gear,  vessels,  workmen,  instructors,  etc.,  and  made 
them  completely  dependent  on  the  corporation. 

The  Russo-Japanese  War  intervened,  and,  in  accord- 
ance with  the  Portsmouth  Treaty  of  Sept.  5,  1905,  a 
special  Fishing  Convention  was  concluded  in  St.  Peters- 
burg on  July  28,  1907,  to  remain  in  force  for  12  years. 
In  spite  of  the  Japanese  insistence  based  on  an  arbi- 
trary construction  of  the  text  of  the  Treaty,  the  Con- 
vention of  1907  reserved  for  the  Russian  fishing  indus- 
try all  rivers  and  34  internal  water  areas.  The  rights 
of  the  Russian  settlers  were  thus  guaranteed,  while  the 
Japanese  received  full  scope  for  the  development  of 
their  own  fishing  industry.  A  period  of  peaceful  eco- 
nomic competition  set  in,  in  which  the  Japanese  were 
favored  by  their  better  technical  equipment,  larger 
number  of  vessels  and  experienced  working  men  and 
stronger  initiative  of  their  capitalists,  who  were  sup- 
ported by  the  State.  Competition  was  difficult  for  the 
Russians,  but  they  now  began  to  export  fish  to  Euro- 
pean Russia,  Especially,  the  products  of  the  firth  of 
the  Amur  River  (the  town  of  Nicolayevsk)  were  all 
sent  to  the  home  market  in  1916  and  1917  owing  to  the 
increased  demand  for  feeding  the  Army.  The  Russian 
fish  industry  thus  grew  independent  of  the  cheap  Japa- 


316    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

nese  market.  Besides  the  home  market,  it  found  ready 
sales  in  the  best  markets  of  Western  Europe.  This 
explains  why  the  Japanese  were  particularly  eager  to 
use  their  chance  as  soon  as  it  presented  itself  for 
strengthening  their  position  in  Russian  waters. 

War  and  revolution  opened  before  the  Japanese 
much  larger  prospectives  than  that  of  capturing  Rus- 
sia's economic  resources  in  the  Far  East  by  the  slow 
method  of  "peaceful  penetration."  It  is  during  this 
time — and  especially  during  the  last  four  years — that 
the  Japanese  have  actually  tried  to  realize  annexation- 
ist  schemes  such  as  are  formulated  by  Mr.  Kuno.  The 
estuaries  of  the  Amur  and  the  northern  part  of  Sakhalin 
were  occupied  by  the  Japanese,  with  all  their  fisheries 
and  other  natural  resources.  A  new  Gibraltar  was  to 
be  created  by  fortifying  the  northern  entrance  to  the 
Japan  Sea  through  the  Tartar  Straits,  and  the  Japan 
Sea  was  to  be  transformed  into  an  inland  sea,  a  new 
Mediterranean.  Moreover,  a  "buffer  state"  controlled 
by  Japan  was  to  be  created  on  the  Siberian  mainland. 
The  officially  avowed  aim  was  to  ward  off  Bolshevism 
from  Japan  and  especially  from  Korea.  But  the  actual 
ami  is  different.  It  is  suggested  in  Mr.  Kuno's  book. 
It  consists  in  warding  off  Russia  from  the  Pacific  and 
thus  securing  Japan's  rear  in  the  event  of  some  un- 
toward happening  on  that  Ocean. 

The  campaign  for  the  annexation  of,  at  least,  the 
northern  half  of  Sakhalin  had  begun  even  before  the 
Russian  Revolution.  In  the  summer  of  1916,  a  number 
of  articles  were  published  in  the  Japanese  press,  in 
which  the  Russian  Government  was  represented  as 
prepared  to  cede  to  Japan  that  northern  part,  as  having 
no  value  to  Russia.  Japan,  it  was  said,  did  not 
wish  to  accept  it  as  a  gift  from  Russia,  and  was  ready 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  317 

to  offer  a  small  monetary  compensation.  Under  date 
of  August  12,  1916,  a  Russian  writer,  N.  M.  Popov, 
stated  that  influential  Japanese  newspapers  were  even 
asserting  that  "in  compensation  for  the  freedom  of 
action  accorded  to  Russia  in  the  west,  she  was  ready 
to  relinquish,  in  favor  of  Japan,  her  sovereign  rights  in 
the  territories  lying  east  of  Lake  Baikal." 

The  Bolshevist  revolution  in  November,  1917,  of 
course,  gave  Japan  a  splendid  chance  to  advance  her 
new  claims.  As  early  as  December,  1917,  Japan  took 
her  first  step.  She  addressed  a  note  to  the  Allied  na- 
tions and  to  the  United  States,  offering  to  send  troops 
into  Siberia,  to  protect  the  Allied  interests  from  Ger- 
many. Japan  even  proposed  to  send  troops  to  Europe 
if  desired,  on  the  conditions  that  intervention  in  Siberia 
should  be  exclusively  Japanese,  that  her  paramount 
position  in  China  and  the  existing  treaties  with  China 
should  be  recognized  and  that  exclusive  concessions 
should  be  given  to  her  in  Eastern  Siberia  for  mining, 
timber  exploitation  and  fishing.  Of  course,  Japan 
declared  that  no  permanent  occupation  of  Siberia  and 
no  territorial  annexation  was  intended. 

After  some  speculation,  France  and  Great  Britain 
accepted  the  Japanese  proposal,  provided  that  the 
United  States  also  agreed.  The  French  idea  was  to 
have  some  hundreds  of  thousands  of  Japanese  troops 
sent,  in  the  spring  of  1918,  somewhere  to  the  Urals 
or  the  Volga,  where  a  new  "Eastern  front"  was  to  be 
built  (see  Chapter  VI).  This  scheme  was  vetoed  in 
Washington.  The  United  States'  argument  is  made 
clear  in  a  message  communicated  to  the  Ambassadors 
of  France,  England  and  Italy,  on  March  3,  1918.  "The 
United  States,"  the  message  states,  "is  cognizant  of 
the  peril  of  anarchy  which  surrounds  the  Siberian  prov- 


318     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

inces,  and  also  the  overshadowing  risk  of  German  in- 
vasion. It  shares  with  the  Government  of 

the  view  that  if  intervention  is  deemed  advisable,  the 
Government  of  Japan  is  in  complete  touch  with  the 
situation,  and  could  accomplish  it  most  efficiently.  .  .  . 
But  it  is  bound  in  frankness  to  say  that  the  wisdom  of 
intervention  seems  to  it  most  questionable.  .  .  .  The 
central  empires  could — and  would — make  it  appear 
that  Japan  was  doing  hi  the  East  exactly  what  Ger- 
many is  doing  in  the  West.  It  is  the  judgment  of  the 
United  States  .  .  .  that  a  hot  resentment  would  be  gen- 
erated hi  Russia." 

The  State  Department  was  perfectly  right.  All  Rus- 
sian parties  were  equally  averse  to  the  Japanese  in- 
tervention. On  March  5,  1918,  Mr.  Bruce  Lockhart 
telegraphed  to  the  British  Foreign  Office:  "You  can 
have  no  idea  of  the  feeling  which  Japanese  intervention 
will  arouse.  Even  the  "Cadet"  (Constitutional-Demo- 
cratic) press,  which  cannot  be  accused  of  Bolshevist 
sympathies,  is  loud  in  its  denunciation  of  this  crime 
against  Russia." 

However,  a  few  days  later  (March  14)  Mr.  Balfour 
tried  to  prove  before  the  House  that  Japan  was  not 
"moved  by  selfish  and  dishonorable  motives,"  that  she 
acted  as  a  "friend  of  Russia,"  France  also  stuck  to 
her  idea.  A  new,  mitigated  scheme  was  now  worked 
out  in  Paris.  The  intervention  was  not  to  be  purely 
Japanese,  but  inter-Allied.  Its  aim  was  to  help  the 
Russian  initiative.  From  March  to  May  new  negotia- 
tions were  carried  on  hi  Washington,  to  persuade  Presi- 
dent Wilson  to  accept  the  scheme.  This  was  also  the 
aim  of  the  mission  of  Mr.  Bergson.  In  Moscow  the 
Allies  tried  to  influence  the  Russian  parties.  After 
a  good  deal  of  friction,  Russian  politicians  were  in- 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  319 

duced  to  consent  to  the  Japanese  landing,  but  on  the 
formal  promise  that  Russia's  sovereignty,  independence 
and  unity  of  territory  would  not  be  impaired.  A  "ver- 
bal note"  to  this  effect  was  handed  over  to  the  Rus- 
sian anti-Bolshevist  organizations  by  Mr.  Noulens, 
the  French  Ambassador  (see  Chapter  VI).  President 
Wilson  finally  consented,  but  even  after  that  he  per- 
sisted in  considering  the  whole  undertaking  as  aimless. 
The  other  Allies  also  cooled  down  a  little,  as  soon  as 
they  came  to  know  that  Japan  was  not  at  all  interested 
in  going  further  to  the  West  than  Lake  Baikal.  It 
at  once  threw  a  lurid  light  on  the  real  aim  of  her 
"friendly"  support.  Lake  Baikal  is  a  strategic  frontier 
between  the  Eastern  and  the  Western  Siberia  and  any 
one  who  is  in  possession  of  the  railway  tunnels  in  the 
mountains  surrounding  the  lake  on  the  south,  holds 
the  key  to  the  Far  East. 

Japan  did  not  seem  to  wait  until  her  proposals  for 
intervention  should  be  agreed  upon  by  the  Allies.  The 
Japanese  keenly  observed  the  changing  situation  in 
Siberia  and  offered  their  help  to  the  local  Russian 
groups  working  for  the  liberation  of  Russia.  Ataman 
Semenov,  who  began  fighting  the  Bolsheviks  in  De- 
cember, 1917,  received  Allied  aid  early  in  1918.  An 
American  report  from  Irkutsk  .(Webster  and  Hicks, 
on  April  3)  stated  that  Semenov  "has  ample  money, 
is  paying  high  price  for  soldiers,"  and  Semenov  him- 
self acknowledged  that  he  was  aided  (after  England 
and  France)  by  Japan.  Secret  documents  found  by 
the  Bolsheviks  in  Vladivostok  disclosed  negotiations 
between  the  representatives  of  the  newly-built  Siberian 
Government  and  the  Allied  representatives  in  Harbin, 
Vladivostok  and  Pekin  in  the  beginning  of  April,  1918. 
The  representatives  of  the  Siberian  Government  stated 


320     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

that  it  was  Japan  which  chiefly  benefited  by  the  negoti- 
ations. "The  uncertainty  of  the  situation,"  they  said, 
"favors  extremely  the  strengthening  of  the  influence 
of  Japan  at  the  expense  of  the  other  Allies.  The  posi- 
tion maintained  by  the  representatives  of  Japan  re- 
garding the  recognition  of  the  .Siberian  Government 
gives  room  for  the  thought  that  Japan  holds  the  possi- 
bility of  recognition  entirely  in  her  hands;  she  makes 
definite  terms  for  recognition,  among  which  it  is  neces- 
sary to  point  out  the  condition  that  Vladivostok  remain 
unfortified."  They  added  that  "such  predominance  of 
the  Japanese  influence  worries  the  Government  of 
Siberia  extremely,"  as  "the  aim  of  Japan  is  to  obtain 
complete  control  over  certain  economic  factors,  such 
as,  for  instance,  the  fisheries  in  Kamchatka."  They 
stated  that  "there  are  public  groups  which  are,  it  seems, 
ready  to  use  the  separate  assistance  of  Japan,  which 
she  is  ready  to  give"  and  which  "may  go  the  limit,  in- 
clusive of  a  separate  agreement  with  Japan.1  Conse- 
quently they  urged  a  more  clearly  defined  attitude  on 

*Mr.  John  Spargo  in  his  book  "Russia  as  an  American  Problem" 
says  (pp.  239-240)  that  "General  Horvath  was  approached  (at 
Harbin)  by  a  representative  of  Japan,  Gen.  Nakashima,  and  offered 
the  entire  support  of  Japan  with  all  the  arms,  money  and  men  that 
might  be  required  to  clear  Siberia  of  the  "Bolsheviki,"  on  the  con- 
ditions that  "Japan  should  undertake  intervention  in  Siberia  alone," 
"that  she  should  be  given  the  northern  half  of  Sakhalin,"  "prefer- 
ential trade  and  commercial  rights"  in  Eastern  Siberia,  "exclusive 
concessions  for  the  exploitation  of  all  mining  areas  and  .forests  east 
of  Lake  Baikal."  "full  equality  with  Russians  in  the  fisheries  of 
Eastern  Siberia,"  and  "that  Vladivostok  be  transformed  into  a  free 
port  and  all  its  fortifications  dismantled."  But  Gen.  Horvath  in 
a  letter  to  me  (Pekin,  Aug.  15,  1921)  stated  that  "Japan  never 
addressed  such  demands  to  me."  He  admits,  however,  that  there 
were  "certain  hints  in  the  spirit  of  some  of  the  points  quoted,  on 
the  part  of  irresponsible  persons."  But  he  concludes  that  such  opin- 
ions "did  not  at  all  coincide  with  the  true  intentions  of  the  Japanese 
Government."  I  do  not  see  any  basis  for  such  an  optimistic  con- 
struction and  after  having  taken  steps  to  verify  Mr.  Spargo's  data 
I  feel  entitled  to  assert  that  they  repose  on  good  authority. 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  321 

the  part  of  America  towards  the  Government  of  Siberia. 

America,  naturally,  had  to  change  its  attitude 
towards  intervention  when  the  Allies  decided  to  make 
use  of  the  Czecho-Slovaks  in  the  internal  struggle  in 
Russia,  The  Czecho-Slovaks  were  now  to  take  the 
place  of  the  Japanese,  in  building  the  "Eastern"  front. 
President  Masaryk,  who  was  then  in  America,  per- 
suaded President  Wilson  that  it  was  necessary  to  aid 
anti-Bolshevist  Russia.  However,  the  part  of  Japan 
was  now  to  be  made  equal  to  that  of  the  other  Allies. 
It  was,  probably,  in  order  to  obviate  suspicion  that  the 
invitation  to  Japan  was  conveyed  by  the  United  States. 
The  United  States  thus  took  upon  themselves  a  joint 
responsibility  for  the  Allied  action  in  Siberia. 

On  August  3,  1918,  official  declarations  appeared 
from  the  Japanese  Government  and  the  Government 
of  the  United  States,  mentioning  the  American  pro- 
posal to  Japan  "that  each  of  the  two  Governments  send 
a  force  of  a  jew  thousand  men  to  Vladivostok,"  and 
the  Japanese  consent  to  it.  The  aim  of  the  interven- 
tion was  carefully  circumscribed  and  based  upon  two 
temporary  purposes:  (1)  "to  render  such  protection 
and  help  as  is  possible  to  the  Czecho-Slovaks  against 
the  armed  Austrian  and  German  prisoners  who  are  at- 
tacking them,"  and  (2)  "to  steady  any  efforts  at  self- 
government  or  self-defense  in  which  the  Russians  them- 
selves may  be  willing  to  accept  assistance."  A  declara- 
tion was  added  "in  the  most  public  and  solemn  man- 
ner," that  the  United  States  "contemplates  no  interfer- 
ence with  the  political  attitude  of  Russia,  no  inter- 
vention in  her  internal  affairs — not  even  in  the  local 
affairs  of  the  limited  areas  which  her  military  force  may 
be  obliged  to  occupy —  and  no  impairment  of  her  terri- 
torial integrity,  either  now  or  hereafter."  The  Japa- 


322     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

nese  Government  equally  "reaffirmed  their  avowed 
policy  of  respecting  the  territorial  integrity  of  Russia, 
and  of  abstaining  from  all  interference  in  her  internal 
politics."  They  also  declared  "that  upon  the  realiza- 
tion of  the  object  above  indicated  ('to  relieve  the  pres- 
sure weighing  upon  the  Czecho-Slovak  forces')  they 
will  immediately  withdraw  all  Japanese  forces  from 
Russian  territory,  and  will  leave  wholly  unimpaired 
the  sovereignty  of  Russia  in  all  its  phases,  whether 
political  or  military."  No  more  positive  assurances 
could  be  imagined,  and  the  readiness  to  give  them,  in 
the  light  of  subsequent  activities  gives  place  to  philo- 
sophic speculation. 

The  Government  of  the  United  States  continued  to 
hold  the  gravest  doubt  as  to  the  final  result  of  the 
undertaking  upon  which  it  was  embarking.  The  same 
announcement  of  August  3  starts  with  the  following 
argument.  "In  the  judgment  of  the  Government  of  the 
United  States — a  judgment  arrived  at  after  repeated 
and  very  searching  consideration  of  the  whole  situation 
— military  intervention  in  Russia  would  be  more  likely 
to  add  to  the  present  sad  confusion  there  than  to  cure 
it,  and  would  injure  Russia  rather  than  help  her  out 
of  her  distresses.  Such  military  intervention  as  has 
been  most  frequently  proposed,  even  supposing  it  to  be 
efficacious  in  its  immediate  object  of  delivering  an  at- 
tack upon  Germany  from  the  East,  would,  in  its  judg- 
ment, be  more  likely  to  turn  out  to  be  merely  a  method 
of  making  use  of  Russia  than  to  be  a  method  of  serv- 
ing her." 

At  the  very  time  when  these  lines  were  written,  they 
proved  distressingly  true  so  far  as  European  Russia  was 
concerned  (see  Chap.  VI).  The  case  proved  to  be  the 
same  in  eastern  Siberia.  The  Americans,  as  a  conse- 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  323 

quence  of  their  wavering  attitude,  tried  to  keep  clear 
of  armed  encounters,  and  it  was  said  that  they  took 
pride  in  the  fact  that  during  the  first  eight  months  of 
intervention  they  never  killed  a  single  Russian.  On  the 
contrary,  the  Japanese  very  soon  revealed  their  real 
intention  to  control  eastern  Siberia.  "The  British, 
French  and  American  forces,"  Mr.  Spargo  says,  "were 
systematically  kept  from  points  of  strategic  importance. 
East  of  Lake  Baikal  every  town  and  village  of  any  im- 
portance was  placed  under  Japanese  control.  Every 
railroad  bridge  and  every  road  was  guarded  by  the  Japa- 
nese, and  every  railroad  station  from  Vladivostok  to 
Chita  flew  the  Japanese  flag  and  no  other.  .  .  .  No 
American,  etc.,  officer  could  move  a  man  without  in- 
forming the  Japanese  General  Staff.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  American  and  European  officers  were  never 
informed  of  the  movements  of  Japanese  troops.  .  .  . 
Japanese  warships  filled  Vladivostok  harbor,  their  guns 
trained  on  the  city  most  of  the  time.  Not  a  caravan 
could  move,  not  a  train  be  run,  not  a  ship  arrive  or 
depart  without  passing  Japanese  inspection  and  secur- 
ing Japanese  permission."  Moreover,  the  very  mean- 
ing of  intervention  was  substantially  changed  by  an 
increase  of  Japanese  troops  unforeseen  in  the  initial 
agreement.  Every  Allied  power  had  been  invited  to 
send  about  7,000  armed  men.  But  soon  strange  reports 
began  to  roll  into  Vladivostok,  that  Japanese  troops 
were  everywhere:  in  the  Transbaikal  Province,  at 
Irkutsk,  Chita,  upon  the  Amur  line  and  in  North  Man- 
churia, at  the  mouth  of  the  Amur,  east  of  Kirin  and  on 
the  trade  route  from  Mongolia.  Intelligence  officers 
sent  out  to  investigate  the  situation  brought  back  the 
news  that  the  Japanese  had  over  70,000  in  Siberia  and 
Manchuria,  and  that  beside  the  Twelfth  Division,  con- 


324     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

trolled  from  Vladivostok,  they  had  two  more  armies: 
the  Seventh  Division  controlled  by  the  Kwangtung 
administration  at  Port  Arthur  and  guarding  the  Chi- 
nese Eastern  Railway  and  the  Third  Division  with 
headquarters  in  Chita,  directly  controlled  by  the  Gen- 
eral Staff  in  Tokio.  "These  facts  gradually  becoming 
known,"  an  American  writer  (nineteen  years  a  resident 
of  Japan),  states  in  his  book1  which  has  recently  ap- 
peared, "killed  that  complete  faith  and  trust  in  Japan 
which  characterized  the  early  days  of  the  expedition." 
On  November  2,  1918,  Secretary  Lansing  plainly  told 
Viscount  Ishii  that  Japan  had  gone  too  far.  As  a  re- 
sult, General  Otani,  the  Japanese  Commander,  received 
orders  to  send  back  the  52,000  in  excess  of  the  agree- 
ment. But  a  year  later,  on  September  15,  1919,  Secre- 
tary of  War  Baker  told  the  Military  Committee  of  the 
House  of  Representatives,  that  there  were  still  60,000 
Japanese  troops  in  Siberia  as  against  8,477  Americans  ; 
1,429  British;  1,400  Italians  and  1,076  French! 

It  may  be  suggested  that  just  this  numerical  superi- 
ority was  necessary  in  order  actually  "to  steady  the 
Russian  efforts  at  self-government  and  self-defense," 
as  against  the  Bolsheviks.  The  Japanese  diplomatist 
at  the  Washington  Conference,  Baron  Shidehara,  did 
indeed  state  at  a  Committee  meeting  on  Jan.  23,  1922, 
that  the  Japanese  Government  were  "anxious  to  see 
an  orderly  and  stable  authority  speedily  reestablished 
in  the  Far  Eastern  possessions  of  Russia."  "It  was 
in  this  spirit,"  Baron  Shidehara  added,  "that  they 
manifested  a  keen  interest  in  the  patriotic  but  ill-fated 
struggle  of  Admiral  Kolchak."  It  is  only  just  to  men- 
tion that  on  the  very  next  day  after  Kolchak's  nomina- 
tion (Nov.  19,  1918),  the  Japanese  proposed  to  send 

'"What  Shall  I  Think  of  Japan?"  by  George  Gleason. 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  325 

to  Omsk  a  few  regiments.  However,  Kolchak  was  not 
inclined  to  play  the  part  of  Ataman  Semenov  and  he 
obviously  had  good  reasons  to  apprehend  the  result 
of  the  armed  support  the  Japanese  were  so  eager  to 
offer. 

He  declined.  That  chance  of  controlling  Siberia 
gone,  the  Japanese  returned  to  their  former  tactics  and 
supported  Semenov  in  Chita  against  Kolchak  in  Omsk. 
It  took  about  four  months  to  liquidate  the  conflict, 
and  Kolchak  had  to  submit  to  conditions  dictated  by 
the  Japanese,  in  order  to  be  recognized  by  the  rebel 
ataman.  The  conditions  accepted  established  an  al- 
most complete  independence  of  the  Far  East  under 
Semenov.  This  was  the  first  attempt  of  the  Japanese 
to  build  a  "buffer  State" :  we  see  that  it  was  to  be  built 
against  the  national  Government  and  not  against  the 
Soviets. 

Kolchak's  ministers  induced  the  ruler  to  yield  in 
that  question  of  Semenov,  as  they  hoped  that  this 
would  pave  the  way  for  bringing  the  Japanese  troops 
to  the  front,  where  they  were  now  badly  needed.  Far 
from  this  being  the  case,  the  Japanese  Government 
even  rejected  (August,  1919)  the  Russian-American  re- 
quest to  send  two  divisions  to  the  west  of  Lake  Baikal, 
in  order  to  guard  the  railway  line.  The  "climate"  was 
unfavorable  for  the  Japanese  in  Western  Siberia,  and 
Siberian  expeditions  had  become  too  unpopular  in  the 
Parliament!  At  the  same  time  a  new  Japanese  division 
was  sent  to  Transbaikalia. 

As  stated  by  Baron  Shidehara  at  the  Washington 
Conference,  this  means  that  the  Japanese  "have  care- 
fully refrained  from  supporting  one  faction  against 
another.  .  .  .  They  withheld  all  assistance  from  Gen. 
Rozanov  (Kolchak's  Governor  at  Vladivostok)  against 


326     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

the  revolutionary  movements  which  led  to  his  over- 
throw in  January,  1920."  The  same  can  be  repeated 
concerning  the  occasion  of  the  overthrow  of  Kolchak 
himself  (Chap.  VI).  Even  on  that  occasion  the  Japa- 
nese "maintained  an  attitude  of  strict  neutrality  and 
refused  to  interfere  in  these  movements  which  it  would 
have  been  quite  easy  for  them  to  suppress  if  they  had 
so  desired."  Baron  Shidehara's  statement  is  fully  borne 
out  by  the  facts.  Kolchak's  Premier,  Mr.  Tretyakov, 
indeed,  asked  in  vain  for  Japan's  help  at  the  decisive 
moment  of  Irkutsk's  revolt  against  Kolchak.  The 
Japanese  sent  out  a  detachment  of  a  thousand  soldiers, 
but  at  the  same  tune  a  telegram  from  Tokio  forbade 
them  to  intervene.  At  the. supreme  moment  when  Ad- 
miral Kolchak  was  ignominiously  betrayed  by  the 
Allies,  at  the  Irkutsk  railway  station,  in  mid-January, 
1920,  the  Japanese  soldiers  followed  the  procedure  with 
cool  curiosity.  And  when,  on  February  7,  Kolchak  was 
shot,  there  was  no  more  need  to  "serve"  Russia.  One 
might  now  easily  "make  use"  of  the  incipient  Siberian 
chaos. 

However,  for  a  tune  Japan  wavered  between  the 
two  opposite  policies  of  complete  withdrawal  and  re- 
inforced military  occupation.  On  December  8,  1919, 
the  Japanese  Ambassador  at  Washington  asked  the 
Secretary  of  State  which  of  the  two  policies  America 
was  prepared  to  pursue,  in  face  of  "the  recent  unfavor- 
able development  of  the  situation  in  Siberia."  The 
United  States  after  a  "most  careful  consideration"  de- 
cided for  withdrawal,  thus  "marking  the  end  of  a  co- 
operative effort  by  Japan  and  the  United  States  to 
assist  the  Russian  people."  The  motives  given  in  the 
Note  of  January  16,  1920,  were  that  the  first  purpose 
of  intervention  as  expressed  in  an  aide-memoire  handed 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  327 

to  the  Japanese  Ambassador  at  Washington  on  July  17, 
1918,  the  repatriation  of  the  Czecho-Slovak  troops,  was 
on  the  way  of  being  accomplished.  The  second  pur- 
pose, "steadying  the  efforts  at  self-government  and 
self-defense,"  could  hardly  be  "longer  served  by  the 
presence  of  American  troops." 

Japan  decided  otherwise.  The  question  of  evacua- 
tion was  here  made  a  party  issue  between  the  omnipo- 
tent military  party  and  the  liberal  civilians,  whose 
influence,  however  much  on  the  increase,  is  still  not 
strong  enough  to  determine  actual  politics.  The  Ameri- 
can observer  quoted,  Mr.  Gleason,  rightly  connects  the 
decision  of  the  Japanese  to  stay  in  Siberia  with  their 
internal  politics.  "With  the  dissolution  of  the  Diet 
late  in  February  (1920),"  he  states,  "and  the  conse- 
quent removal  of  restraint  on  the  military  party,  the 
Government  early  in  April  announced  its  decision  to 
remain  in  Siberia.  A  policy  of  aggressive  control  of 
the  railroad  east  of  Lake  Baikal  seems  to  have  been 
adopted."  The  official  motive  that  was  now  given  for 
a  prolonged  occupation,  was,  as  stated  by  Baron  Shide- 
hara,  "the  duty  of  affording  protection  to  a  large  num- 
ber of  their  nationals  residing  in  the  districts  in  ques- 
tion and  security  in  Korea." 

Before  we  pass  to  the  measures  with  which  the  de- 
cision taken  "early  in  April"  (4-5)  was  accompanied, 
we  must  dwell  somewhat  upon  the  pretext  chosen  by 
Japan  for  enacting  these  drastic  measures.  Baron 
Shidehara  grows  very  emphatic  when  he  comes  to  speak 
of  that  bloody  "outrage"  in  Nicolayevsk,  which  roused 
"the  just  popular  indignations"  and  for  which  "no 
nation  worthy  of  respect  will  possibly  remain  forbear- 
ing," as  "history  affords  few  instances  similar  to"  that 
incident.  Exceptionally  strong  language  is  thus  used 


328     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

to  justify  an  exceptionally  strong  measure  of  a  "re- 
prisal" to  last  an  indefinite  time,  "pending  the  estab- 
lishment in  Russia  of  a  responsible  authority  with 
whom  Japan  can  communicate  in  order  to  obtain  due 
satisfaction."  One  must  not  forget  that  the  incident 
which  took  place  in  Nicolayevsk  on  March  12,  1920, 
was  made  possible  only  because  "a  responsible  au- 
thority" had  just  disappeared  as  a  result  of  the  "move- 
ments which  it  would  have  been  quite  easy  for  the 
Japanese  to  suppress  if  they  had  so  desired."  More- 
over, the  very  massacre  at  Nicolayevsk  was,  as  we  shall 
see,  the  result  of  the  same  Japanese  policy. 

And,  indeed,  what  did  happen  in  Nicolayevsk  on 
that  memorable  day  of  March  12?  As  a  result  of  Kol- 
chak's  downfall  the  whole  country  was  in  a  state  of 
dissolution,  when  nobody  could  vouch  for  anybody's 
safety.  The  Japanese  garrison,  which  occupied  the 
little  town  of  Nicolayevsk  hi  the  estuary  of  the  Amur 
River,  was  practically  the  only  strong  unit  of  power  in 
the  whole  country  to  the  north  of  Khabarovsk  (Mari- 
time Province).  It  numbered  600  men  in  1919,  but 
just  at  the  critical  moment  it  had  been  diminished  to 
300.  As  early  as  January  7,  1920,  the  Japanese  Consul 
at  Nicolayevsk  had  sent  a  telegram  to  Foreign  Min- 
ister Uchida,  to  warn  him  that  as  a  result  of  Bolshevist 
activities  in  the  neighborhood  the  situation  at  Nicola- 
yevsk had  become  desperate.  "If  our  residents,"  he 
said,  "are  not  removed  directly,  I  cannot  guarantee  the 
consequences."  He  asked  for  permission  for  immediate 
removal,  before  it  was  too  late.  He  was  ordered  to 
wait  for  instructions  and  to  act  according  to  circum- 
stances. On  January  26  the  Consul  asked  again  for  a 
detachment  to  be  sent  at  once,  as  there  was  danger 
of  being  surrounded  by  the  Bolsheviks  and  removal  of 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  329 

the  residents  had  already  become  impossible.  He  never 
received  any  help,  and,  at  the  last  moment,  he  was 
forced  to  "act  according  to  circumstances."  But  which 
of  the  two  policies  of  Baron  Shidehara  was  he  to  fol- 
low? Was  he  to  remain  neutral  or  to  support  "an 
orderly  and  stable  authority"?  The  commander  of 
the  Japanese  garrison,  moved  by  plain  good  sense,  had 
little  doubt  about  it.  There  was  a  "robber  band  which 
called  itself  Red  Army"  which  was  approaching  Nicola- 
yevsk.  And  there  was  also  a  small  garrison  of  loyal 
Russians  in  the  town  which,  as  well  as  the  whole  popu- 
lation, Russian  and  Japanese,  had  to  be  defended  from 
the  "robbers."  The  Japanese  commander  decided  to 
side  with  the  loyal  population  and  he  even  declared  to 
them,  in  his  appeal  of  January  17,  that  "all  officers  and 
soldiers  of  the  Japanese  detachment  are  firmly  resolved 
to  sacrifice  their  lives  in  the  defense  of  the  lives  and 
property  of  the  inhabitants."  In  a  joint  declaration  by 
the  Russian  and  the  Japanese  commanders  it  was  an- 
nounced that  the  Japanese  "are  rendering  a  substantial 
help  to  the  Russian  armed  forces  in  their  struggle 
against  the  Red  band."  The  Japanese  thus  cooperated 
with  the  only  remainder  of  a  "responsible"  Russian 
Government  and  took  upon  themselves  the  risk  of  that 
cooperation. 

However,  the  defense  was  not  successful  and  the  Reds 
besieged  and  bombarded  the  town.  On  February  20 
(i.e.,  after  Kolchak's  death),  the  Japanese  commander 
decided  to  negotiate  and  was  permitted  to  communicate 
by  wire  with  his  superior  in  Khabarovsk.  To  his  as- 
tonishment he  was  told  that  in  Vladivostok,  Khabar- 
ovsk and  elsewhere  there  was  a  "revolutionary  gov- 
ernment" towards  which  the  Japanese  were  preserving 
"complete  neutrality."  His  only  aim  in  Nicolayevsk 


330     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

was  now  to  be  "the  defense  of  the  Japanese  subjects  and 
preservation  of  order."  An  ambiguous  phrase  was 
added,  that  "the  Japanese  Command  will  not  permit 
the  violation  of  order,  if  arms  are  used  for  usurping  the 
power"  as  they  "wish  to  guarantee  the  life  and  property 
of  the  population  and  prefer  not  to  see  the  tragedy 
of  useless  bloodshed  among  the  fighting  parties."  The 
"robber  band"  being  thus  transformed  into  a  "fighting 
party,"  the  Japanese  commander  decided  to  stop  "use- 
less bloodshed"  by  surrendering  the  town  to  the  Reds. 
Promises  were  given  and  accepted  that  the  lives  and 
property  of  the  Russian  officers  and  the  population 
would  be  guaranteed  on  the  condition  of  surrender 
of  arms  to  the  Japanese.  The  Russian  commanders 
then  thanked  the  Japanese  for  their  loyal  comrade- 
ship— and  committed  suicide.  They  knew  that  rob- 
bers were  robbers,  and  indeed,  promiscuous  killing  had 
begun  directly  after  the  entrance  of  the  Red  band  into 
Nicolayevsk,  on  February  28. 

After  having  imprisoned,  tortured  and  killed  many 
hundreds  of  Russians,  the  bandit  leader,  a  certain 
Triapitsin,  on  March  11  addressed  to  the  Japanese 
officers  a  proposal  to  surrender  their  arms  and  mu- 
nitions. Facing  that  threat,  the  Japanese  commander 
probably  decided  that  this  was  the  end  of  his  "neu- 
trality." He  decided  to  attack  the  "fighting  party" 
first,  before  they  could  attack  him.  Probably,  no  "re- 
sponsible" Russian  authority  would  have  asked  for 
"satisfaction"  had  he  exterminated  the  robbers.  Un- 
fortunately, he  did  not  succeed.  The  robbers  proved 
to  be  too  many  for  him  (1,500  Russians,  200  Koreans, 
300  Chinese  "partisans"  as  against  300  Japanese  sol- 
diers and  400  civil  population).  After  a  few  hours  of 
initial  success,  when  Triapitsin  was  wounded  and  some 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  331 

members  of  his  staff  killed,  the  Japanese  were  besieged 
at  the  Consulate  and  in  the  barracks,  while  600  Rus- 
sian prisoners  and  all  the  Japanese  civilians  were  mas- 
sacred. On  March  16  the  Japanese  Command  in  Kha- 
barovsk sent  the  order  to  stop  fighting.  The  theory  of 
"neutrality"  once  more  triumphed,  and  after  the  Japa- 
nese Consul  and  all  the  civil  population  had  already 
been  killed,  the  Khabarovsk  Command  deemed  it 
possible  to  once  more  trust  the  "fighting  party."  The 
Japanese  who  remained  alive  (110  soldiers,  17  wounded 
and  4  women)  were  ordered  to  surrender  and  to  give 
up  their  arms,  with  the  understanding  that  they  would 
be  released  from  prison  in  the  spring.  The  question  of 
"responsibility"  for  the  events  of  March  12-16  seemed 
thus  to  be  shelved,  so  much  the  more  as  it  was  very 
difficult  to  find  the  connecting  link  between  the  robbers 
who  had  been  assailed  by  the  Japanese  and  any  Rus- 
sian authority  responsible  for  the  activities  of  the  rob- 
bers. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  the  Japanese  Government 
definitely  chose  between  the  two  opposite  policies. 
However,  the  policy  it  now  decided  to  pursue  was  by 
no  means  that  of  "neutrality."  On  a  larger  scale  and 
with  more  success,  the  Japanese  Command  repeated 
now  the  unhappy  attempt  of  the  Commander  of  Nicola- 
yevsk.  On  April  4-5  the  Japanese  detachments  in 
Vladivostok,  Khabarovsk,  Nicolsk,  Spassk  and  other 
towns  of  the  Maritime  Province  began  a  sudden  attack 
against  the  Russians,  who  were  not  robbers  but  regular 
soldiers  of  the  "revolutionary  government"  of  Reds. 
Hundreds  of  Russians  were  killed,  Russian  vessels  were 
taken  possession  of,  Russian  institutions  shut  down. 
Obviously,  at  that  moment  Baron  Shidehara's  theory 
was  completely  overthrown.  Who  was  now  to  hold 


332     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

the  Japanese  responsible  for  their  acts  of  open  aggres- 
sion against  one  of  the  "fighting  parties"? 

Before  we  describe  the  impression  produced  on  all  the 
Russian  factions  by  this  new  form  of  the  Japanese 
intervention,  let  us  come  back  to  Nicolayevsk.  Tria- 
pitsin's  band  very  soon  learned  of  the  events  of  April 
4-5.  They  understood  very  well  that  this  time  they 
could  expect  no  mercy.  A  Japanese  landing  was  in 
preparation  against  them.  They  now  decided  to  pre- 
vent it  and  to  be  the  first  to  act.  The  power  was 
handed  over  to  a  "Revolutionary  Staff  of  the  Five" 
who  worked  out  a  scheme  for  the  complete  evacuation 
of  Nicolayevsk  and  the  wholesale  destruction  of  the 
town  and  of  all  its  inhabitants.  On  May  21-25  all  the 
Russians  (more  than  3,000)  and  all  the  imprisoned 
Japanese  (131)  were  murdered  by  the  simplified 
method  of  stunning  and  drowning  them,  all  important 
buildings  were  blown  up,  while  the  band  of  miscreants 
retreated  to  the  southwest,  up  the  Rivers  Angun  and 
its  confluent,  the  Kerbi,  to  the  gold-bearing  mountain- 
ous district.  The  Japanese  who  occupied  Nicolayevsk 
on  June  3,  1920,  found  nothing  but  ruins  and  corpses. 
The  bandit  leaders,  the  only  "responsible"  ones,  were 
a  month  later  shot  by  then-  mutinying  "partisans" 
(July  9).  The  responsible  part  of  the  Russian  popu- 
lation hi  the  region  continued  to  cooperate  with  the 
newly-arrived  Japanese  garrison,  in  pursuing  the  rem- 
nants of  the  Bolshevist  band. 

A  regional  conference  of  Russian  inhabitants  met  hi 
Xicolayevsk  on  August  15-23,  and  it  stated  hi  its  ad- 
dress to  the  local  Japanese  Staff  that  the  Russian  popu- 
lation, "believing  hi  the  friendly  help  of  Japan  to  the 
Russian  State,  had  made  every  effort  to  facilitate  the 
struggle  of  the  Japanese  troops  against  the  armed  de- 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  333 

tachments  of  Bolsheviks  scattered  all  around  the  Nosk 
district."  They  hardly  expected  that  it  would  be  that 
same  "Russian  State"  which  would  be  held  responsible 
for  the  Bolshevist  robbers.1 

All  the  Russian  parties  were  very  much  aware  of 
the  coming  change  in  the  Japanese  policy  of  occupa- 
tion. If  the  Japanese  really  wished,  as  Baron  Shide- 
hara  stated,  to  "prompt  the  reconciliation  of  the  vari- 
ous political  groups  in  Eastern  Siberia,"  they  may  have 
been  satisfied.  All  these  groups  were  now  united 
against  Japan.  And  as  Japan  had  tried  to  form  in 
Transbaikalia  a  "buffer  state"  against  Russia,  the  Rus- 
sians now  decided  to  transform  that  province  into  a 
buffer  state  against  Japan. 

The  idea  was  first  suggested  to  the  victorious  Bol- 
sheviks by  the  moderate  socialistic  parties.  They  un- 
derstood very  well  that  an  immediate  appearance  of 
the  Bolsheviks  on  the  Pacific  slope  would  be  used  to 
justify  the  change  in  the  attitude  of  the  Japanese  and 
help  them  transform  their  intervention  into  a  regular 
occupation.  A  buffer  state  controlled  by  Moscow  but 
not  formally  Bolshevist  might  prevent  an  open  conflict. 
A  special  congress  met  in  Tomsk,  as  early  as  January, 
1920,  to  discuss  that  proposal.  The  Bolsheviks  decided 
to  accept  it,  but  with  one  important  exception.  They 
wished  to  keep  in  their  own  hands  the  Baikal  tunnels 
which  formed  the  gate  to  the  Far  East.  That  is  why 
they  moved  the  proposed  buffer  state  from  Irkutsk,  i.e., 
from  the  western  side  of  the  Lake  Baikal,  to  the  eastern 

1  See  for  a  more  detailed  account  of  the  "Nicolayevsk  incident"  my 
article  in  the  New  York  Sunday  Times,  February  5,  1922.  It  is 
based  on  first-hand  documents  and  depositions  by  eye-witnesses, 
which  had  been  handed  over  to  me  by  the  representative  of  the 
Vladivostok  commercial  and  industrial  group,  Mr.  Alexin,  in  Wash- 
ington. Mr.  Alexin  was  directed  by  the  Vladivostok  Government 
to  perform  a  detailed  inquiry  into  the  events  at  Nicolayevsk. 


334     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

side  of  it,  thus  leaving  the  tunnels  in  the  hands  of 
Moscow.  It  was  also  decided  that  the  buffer  state  in 
Transbaikalia  was  to  be  only  a  temporary  formation. 
It  was  to  last  until  their  next  move  to  the  East  should 
be  deemed  sufficiently  prepared.  Verkhneudinsk  was 
chosen  the  capital  of  the  new  "Far  Eastern  Republic" : 
it  was  the  first  important  town  on  the  road  from  Baikal 
to  Chita.  In  Chita,  Ataman  Semenov  was  still  in 
power.  In  Vladivostok,  after  Rozanov's  overthrow,  a 
new  government  had  appeared,  associated  with  the 
local  Zemstvo  and  formally  "democratic."  In  fact  it 
was  also  controlled  by  the  Bolsheviks  and  they  did  not 
conceal  it,  in  spite  of  the  warnings  of  the  Premier  of 
the  Zemstvo  Government,  Mr.  Medvediev.  "If  you 
wish  to  see  the  Japanese  soldiers  here  and  Vladivostok 
occupied,"  he  said  in  the  beginning  of  March,  "just  say 
the  last  word:  Tower  to  the  Soviets!'  The  occupation 
will  surely  come."  However,  that  last  word  was  spoken. 
On  April  3,  Vladivostok  witnessed  the  opening  of  the 
Soviet.  A  few  days  earlier  a  conference  of  workmen's, 
peasants'  and  Red  Army  delegates  was  opened  in  the 
neighboring  town,  Nicolsk  on  the  Ussuri.  On  April 
4,  as  we  know,  the  Japanese  answered  by  an  armed 
attack  on  the  Russian  army,  militia  and  institutions. 
The  authority  of  Medvediev's  Government  was  under- 
mined, and  power  in  name  only  was  left  to  him. 

The  Russian  national  feeling  was  stirred  again  by 
the  Japanese  pronunciamento.  All  the  Russian  parties, 
extremist,  socialist  and  bourgeois,  were  as  one  against 
the  Japanese  aggression.  The  Bolsheviks  were  looked 
upon  by  the  population  as  the  chief  defenders  of  the 
country  against  the  Japanese  invasion.  The  peasants 
voted  for  and  with  the  Bolsheviks.  The  moderate 
parties,  even  non-socialist  and  conservative,  became  ex- 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  335 

tremely  conciliatory.  On  their  part,  the  Bolsheviks 
understood  their  opportunity  and  made  certain  con- 
cessions. Moscow  definitely  consented  to  sanction  the 
existence  of  a  non-Bolshevist  state  in  eastern  Siberia, 
in  order  to  preserve  eastern  Siberia  from  Japanese  oc- 
cupation. "We  agree  to  the  detachment  from  Russia 
of  that  buffer  state  on  the  territory  between  Lake 
Baikal  and  the  Pacific,  including  Northern  Sakhalin/' 
Chicherin  wrote  on  April  16,  1920.  "The  future  posi- 
tion of  this  state  will  be  determined  by  a  treaty  between 
Russia  and  Japan."  The  dictator  of  the  new  State  was 
to  be  Mr.  Tobelson-Krasnoschekov,  a  lawyer  from  Chi- 
cago. To  the  Japanese  representative,  Major-Gen. 
Takayanaghi,  it  was  explained  that  no  other  program, 
except  a  democratic  one,  was  to  be  carried  out  by  the 
new  Government,  and  that  all  rumors  to  the  effect 
that  it  would  be  a  camouflaged  communistic  state  were 
lies  and  "provocation."  At  the  same  time,  to  the  Rus- 
sians Mr.  Krasnoschekov  spoke  in  a  more  confidential 
tone:  "Our  republic  has  a  signboard,  but  the  sign- 
board has  two  sides  to  it.  On  the  one  side  is  written 
'democracy.'  What  is  written  on  the  other  side,  is 
for  domestic  use,  for  us  alone." 

It  was  the  same  thing  at  Vladivostok.  In  the  new 
Government  Communist  leaders  worked  together  with 
the  former  members  of  the  Ufa  "Directory"  (Gen. 
Boldyrev  and  the  "Cadet,"  Vinogradov)  and  with  the 
non-socialist  reprsentatives  of  industry  and  commerce. 
All  the  socialistic  groups  were  united  on  one  platform 
for  the  elections  to  the  local  (Maritime)  Popular  As- 
sembly. The  Communists  carried  the  largest  vote,  and 
they  had  26  deputies,  while  the  Social-Democrats  Men- 
sheviks  had  only  4,  the  Social-Revolutionaries  3,  the 
Socialists-Populists  (the  most  moderate)  2,  the  Cadets 


336     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

4,  the  industrials  9.  The  peasant  non-partisan  group, 
the  most  numerous  (75  deputies),  voted  mostly  with 
the  Bolsheviks.  The  Bolshevist  leader,  Nikiforov,  de- 
clared, in  the  name  of  the  "central  Soviet  Government" 
in  Moscow,  that  they  thought  that  in  Siberia  capitalism 
must  run  its  course  in  the  way  of  evolution. 

The  leading  idea  now  was  to  weld  the  Far  Eastern 
and  the  Primorsk  (Maritime)  Republics  into  one. 
Krasnoschekov  declared  to  the  Japanese  Commander 
in  Siberia,  Marimoto  Ooi,  that  he  was  ready  to  stop 
military  operations  if  the  Japanese  were  willing  to 
desist  from  helping  the  reactionary  elements  (i.e.,  Ata- 
man Semenov  in  Chita).  This  seemed  to  correspond 
with  the  new  turn  in  the  Japanese  policy. 

The  Siberian  expedition  had  already  cost  Japan 
about  400,000,000  yen  and  thousands  of  lives.  Not 
only  public  opinion  abroad,  but  also  the  liberal  ele- 
ments in  Japan  were  hostile  to  its  continuation.  We 
have  just  seen  the  sinister  success  of  the  military  poli- 
cies in  April,  1920.  But  in  May  the  situation  changed 
again.  Premier  Hara,  who  wished  to  weaken  the  Ken- 
sikai  party  and  to  make  himself  popular  at  the  elec- 
tions, withdrew  the  army  from  Chita,  thus  discontin- 
uing the  help  to  Semenov.  However,  Semenov  had 
now  with  him  the  rest  of  Kolchak's  army,  the  "Kap- 
pelites,"  which  after  the  death  of  Gen.  Kappel  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Irkutsk  (Chap.  VI)  had  reached  Chita 
in  mid-February,  1920,  under  the  command  of  Gen. 
Voitsehovsky.  As  Kolchak  had  nominated  Semenov 
Supreme  Ruler  of  Eastern  Siberia  on  January  21, 
and  the  "Kappelites"  wished  to  remain  loyal  to  the 
memory  of  Kolchak,  they  were  ready  to  serve  Semenov, 
but  under  one  condition.  They  wished  Semenov  to 
discontinue  his  predatory  tactics  and  to  lean  on  demo- 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  337 

cratic  political  groups.  Semenov  did  not  like  the  con- 
dition, and  he  began  intriguing  against  the  "Kappelite" 
commanders.  Gen.  Lokhvitsky  took  the  place  of  Gen. 
Voitsehovsky,  and  Gen.  Verjebitsky  the  place  of  Gen. 
Lokhvitsky.  Both  sides  finally  appealed  to  Gen.  Wran- 
gel,  who  did  not  care  to  interfere. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  Red  Army  profited  by  the 
Japanese  evacuation  and  came  as  close  to  Chita  from 
the  East  as  the  Korymsk  station  (at  the  parting  of 
the  two  branches  of  the  Siberian  Railway) .  The  "Kap- 
pelites"  had  to  retreat  by  the  Manchurian  trunk-line 
(station  Olovyannaya).  They  had  to  stop  at  the  gates 
of  China  (station  Manchuria).  It  was  then  that  the 
Japanese  proposed  to  them  to  transport  them  to  the 
Maritime  Province  through  the  zone  of  occupation  of 
the  Eastern  Chinese  Railway,  on  the  condition  that 
they  be  disarmed  while  traversing  the  Chinese  terri- 
tory. The  Japanese  expected  to  use  the  "Kappelites" 
as  a  kind  of  militia.  As  their  Transbaikalian  "buffer 
state"  had  not  materialized,  they  now  were  considering 
a  minor  scheme,  the  building  of  a  "buffer  within  the 
buffer"  in  the  Maritime  Province.  The  coast  of  the 
Japan  Sea  was  already  under  their  control.  They  had 
to  secure  their  rear  on  the  mainland,  i.e.,  a  distance 
of  about  100  miles  from  Vladivostok  to  the  Manchurian 
frontier.  This  was  important  for  them  not  so  much 
against  Korea  or  Bolshevism,  as  in  the  event  of  a 
conflict  with  America.  Mr.  Washington  B.  Vanderlip's 
concession  in  Kamchatka  and  America's  naval  pro- 
gram had  brought  the  Japanese  nationalist  irritation 
to  the  highest  pitch,  and  there  was  talk  in  the  Japanese 
Chamber  of  a  war  to  come  within  the  next  two  years, 
before  new  American  ships  were  ready. 

However,  when  the  "Kappelites"  came,  the  Japanese 


338     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

saw  that  it  was  a  well-disciplined  force  of  about  16,000 
fighters.  They  thought  it  better  not  to  give  back  their 
arms  to  the  "Kappelites,"  and  they  settled  them  on  the 
territory  of  the  Usuri  Cossacks,  to  the  north  of  Vladi- 
vostok. Semenov  was  thus  left  in  Chita  without  any 
help,  either  from  the  Japanese  or  from  the  Kappelites. 
It  was  easy  for  the  "Eastern  Republic"  to  surround 
Chita  and  to  take  it,  on  October  21.  Semenov  had 
to  flee  away  and  he  was  permitted  by  the  Japanese 
to  settle  in  Port  Arthur,  where  he  soon  became  the 
center  of  a  reactionary  agitation.  The  part  of  the 
gold  fund  he  still  possessed  was  sequestrated  and  its 
use  controlled  by  the  Japanese. 

The  Bolshevist  scheme  of  reuniting  Transbaikalia 
with  Primorsk  was  now  ripe  for  realization.  A  few  days 
after  Semenov's  defeat,  a  conference  met  in  Chita  in 
order  to  decide  the  problem  of  the  final  reunion  of  all 
the  local  Governments  of  Eastern  Siberia.  Amur, 
Chita,  Verkhneudinsk,  Vladivostok,  Sakhalin  and 
Kamchatka  were  represented,  partly  by  fictitious  dele- 
gates. On  November  9,  1920,  the  conference  elected  a 
central  Government,  which  was  then  recognized  as 
vested  with  the  supreme  power  over  all  the  territory 
of  Transbaikalia,  the  Amur  and  Maritime  Prov- 
inces. However,  the  Maritime  Province  protested  and 
insisted  on  preserving  its  autonomy  rights.  Neverthe- 
less, a  Constituent  Assembly  of  the  whole  of  Eastern 
Siberia  was  convened  in  Chita.  It  met  on  February 
12,  1921.  Its  composition  was:  223  peasants,  mostly 
sympathetic  with  the  Bolsheviks;  147  Bolsheviks,  20 
Social-Revolutionaries,  14  Mensheviks  and  20  buryats.1 
On  January  24,  1921,  the  northeastern  part  of  Siberia, 

1 A   native   nationality   settled   round   the   southern   part   of   the 
Baikal  Sea. 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  339 

Kamchatka  and  the  Anadyr  region  were  transferred 
from  the  new  Republic  to  the  direct  control  of  the 
Soviet  Russia  as  a  field  for  foreign  concessions  which 
might  bring  about  a  clash  between  Japan  and  America. 
In  April,  1921,  the  Constituent  Assembly  finished  its 
work  and  was  declared  the  "National  Assembly,"  until 
the  next  elections  which  are  due  in  January,  1922.  In 
the  meantime,  local  Siberian  elements  gained  the  up- 
per hand  in  Chita.  Krasnoschekov  was  recalled  to 
Moscow.  Even  under  the  Bolsheviks,  Siberia  wished 
to  guard  its  independence  and  to  live  its  own  life. 

The  Japanese  now  concentrated  their  attention  on 
the  Maritime  Province,  and  especially  on  the  Southern 
and  Northern  extremities  of  it,  Vladivostok  and  the 
Tartar  Straits,  for  the  reasons  already  made  clear  by 
Mr.  Kuno.  We  shall  soon  see  what  they  did  in  the 
Tartar  Straits,  at  a  place  very  remote  from  the  eyes 
of  the  world.  At  Vladivostok  they  had  to  be  more 
careful.  They  could  not  openly  overthrow  the  Medve- 
diev  Government.  But  they  wanted  it  to  be  independ- 
ent from  the  Far  Eastern  republic  in  Chita,  and  in 
order  to  attain  that  aim  they  made  use  of  local  dis- 
sensions. Local  strivings  for  independence  were  in- 
creased by  that  time  as  a  result  of  communistic  at- 
tempts to  dominate  the  situation  from  Chita.  The 
spirit  of  conciliation  which  had  moved  the  Bolsheviks 
in  the  first  part  of  the  year  (1920)  was  passing  away. 
Responsible  posts  in  the  Vladivostok  administration 
were  all  taken  by  the  Communist  agents  of  Chita.  The 
activity  of  the  Communist  political  police  had  become 
conspicuous,  and  some  of  the  Kappelites  had  been 
murdered.  At  the  same  time,  as  a  result  of  an  economic 
crisis  the  prestige  of  the  Government  was  falling  in  the 
eyes  of  the  population.  The  opposition  groups  of  the 


340    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

right  wing  did  not  fail  to  make  use  of  the  growing  dis- 
affection. Some  leaders  of  that  reactionary  opposition 
were  now  finding  support  in  the  Japanese,  who  hoped 
once  more  to  make  use  of  Semenov  in  opposition  to 
Chita.  The  preliminary  negotiations  of  the  opposition 
leaders  with  Semenov  at  Port  Arthur  resulted  in  the 
working  out  of  a  scheme  for  a  general  movement 
against  the  Reds  in  Primorsk  and  in  Transbaikalia. 
On  the  other  hand,  Semenov  had  connections  with  re- 
actionary monarchists  and  with  Wrangel.  The  Japa- 
nese representative  at  Gen.  Wrangel's  headquarters 
may  have  been  instrumental  in  keeping  up  these  ties.1 
The  first  symptom  of  a  coming  overthrow  was  the 
convocation  of  a  congress  of  "non-socialistic"  parties, 
which  took  place  in  Vladivostok  in  March,  1921,  under 
the  guidance  of  the  brothers  Spiridon  and  Nicholas 
Merkulov,  local  business  men,  who  kept  in  touch  with 
Semenov.  Among  other  matters,  the  congress  passed 
two  characteristic  resolutions  which  testify  to  the  Japa- 
nese influence:  (1)  That  Vladivostok  must  be  defi- 
nitely detached  from  Chita  and  (2)  That  the  Japanese 
occupation  shall  be  prolonged.  Before  the  congress  was 
ended,  a  coup  d'etat  was  tried,  but  it  did  not  succeed. 
A  second  attempt  to  overthrow  the  semi-Bolshevik 

aOn  January  2,  1922,  the  Chita  delegation  at  the  Washington 
Conference  made  public  a  series  of  alleged  secret  documents,  which 
touch  upon  the  question  mentioned  above.  The  documents  were 
promptly  denounced  as  forgeries  by  both  the  Japanese  and  the 
French  official  delegations.  In  certain  parts  of  these  documents 
forgery  is  evident,  but  this  does  not  invalidate  the  fact  of  the 
contemplated  transfer  of  a  part  of  Gen.  Wrangel's  evacuated  army 
to  Vladivostok.  However,  it  did  not  materialize.  Russian  officers 
and  Cossacks  brought  to  Vladivostok  on  October  2,  1921,  on  the 
transport  Franz  Ferdinand,  belonged  to  the  group  (including  the 
Ural  Cossacks)  which  saved  themselves  from  the  Bolsheviks  at  the 
time  of  Denikin  by  a  retreat  through  Persia  to  the  Persian  Gulf. 
Mr.  Tirbach,  who  is  mentioned  in  the  documents  as  an  intermediary 
between  the  Russians,  French  and  Japanese  is  known  in  certain 
circles  in  America. 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  341 

Government  was  more  successful,  and  on  May  26, 1921, 
the  Government  of  Spiridon  Merkulov  took  its  place. 
The  "buffer  within  the  buffer"  was  thus  secured.  But 
now  Semenov  also  tried  to  have  his  share  of  the  spoils. 
He  was  brought  to  Vladivostok  on  a  Japanese  steamer, 
Kyoto-Maru.  He  considered  himself  to  be  the  head 
of  a  general  uprising  due  in  eastern  Siberia  in  the 
spring,  as  had  been  prearranged  in  Port  Arthur.  The 
Japanese  favored  that  scheme.1  When  Semenov  met 
with  opposition  on  the  part  of  Merkulov,  the  Japanese 
transferred  him  secretly  on  their  lorry  from  the  steamer 
to  Grodekovo  station,  where  Kappel's  and  Semenov's 
troops  were  located  and  they  tried  to  reconcile  the 
Kappelites  with  the  Semenovites,  who  were  considered 
too  reactionary  by  the  former.  However,  they  did  not 
succeed,  and  nobody  would  follow  Semenov.  The 
whole  scheme  broke  down,  and  Semenov  went  to  Japan. 
At  the  same  time,  the  White  army  led  by  the  reaction- 
ary monarchist,  Baron  Ungern-Sternberg,  was  to  at- 
tack Chita  from  the  South  (from  Mongolia),  but  it 
was  defeated  by  the  Reds  and  Ungern  himself  was  cap- 
tured and  shot.  The  Japanese  had  to  satisfy  them- 
selves with  their  "buffer  within  the  buffer," — the  Mari- 
time Province. 

It  would  not  be  fair  to  assert  that  these  schemes  and 
activities  were  approved  of  by  the  whole  of  Japan.  The 
liberal  current  in  the  country,  Chamber  and  Ministry, 
was  still  for  complete  evacuation  of  Siberia.  The 
civilian  members  of  the  late  Khara  cabinet  shared  the 

1  Another  batch  of  documents  published  by  the  Chita  delegation 
at  Washington,  reproduced  in  the  New  York  Times  on  January  4 
and  5,  refers  to  trie  moment  of  Semenov's  arrival  at  Vladivostok 
and  to  his  schemes  for  a  subsequent  campaign  against  Chita.  These 
documents  are  in  complete  agreement  with  the  facts  already  known, 
and  I  would  not  be  surprised  if  they  prove  to  be  genuine.  But 
for  the  time  being  I  refrain  from  making  use  of  them. 


342     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

opinion  that  the  troops  must  be  withdrawn.  The  colo- 
nial conference  held  in  Tokio  in  May,  1921,  also 
decided  to  evacuate  Siberia  upon  the  condition  that 
the  Eastern  Republic  of  Chita  should  maintain  order, 
desist  from  communist  politics  and  facilitate  the  eco- 
nomic development  of  Japanese  resources  in  Siberia. 
But  that  view  was  strongly  opposed  by  the  omnipotent 
military  party.  General  Tachibana,  the  Commander 
of  the  Japanese  troops  in  Siberia,  declared  in  his  inter- 
view to  Asahi,  the  Tokio  paper,  that  the  policy  of 
evacuation  was  unwise  and  imprudent.  He  mockingly 
rebuked  the  civilian  diplomats  who  do  not  understand 
the  real  interests  of  Japan.  "If  the  military  men  did 
at  any  time  play  the  part  of  diplomats  in  Siberia,  cer- 
tainly that  was  because  the  Foreign  Office  failed  to 
take  the  necessary  steps  for  the  maintenance  of  the 
national  prestige  as  well  as  of  the  national  interests." 
The  military  men  obviously  knew  better. 

What  have  the  military  men  really  done  in  Siberia, 
since  they  confined  their  activities  to  the  "buffer  within 
the  buffer,"  in  April,  1920?  The  record  of  their  man- 
agement of  the  Maritime  Province  is  horrible,  and  it  is 
this  record  that  was  to  have  been  considered  by  the 
Washington  Conference,  if  discussion  had  been  found 
possible. 

The  measures  taken  by  the  Japanese  military  gov- 
ernment in  the  Russian  part  of  Sakhalin  give  a  very 
good  illustration  of  what  the  Japanese  meant  by 
"peaceful  penetration."  That  term  was  used  by  them 
to  explain  the  Japanese  intentions  in  Siberia  to  the 
American  public  opinion.  To  Russian  objections 
against  using  it,  the  Secretary  General  of  the  Japanese 
delegation  to  the  conference,  Mr.  Masanao  Hanihara, 
replied  that  it  meant  only  "the  demand  for  equal  right 


— •LEGEND"- 1 — 
Territory  of  the  Japanese 
Japanese  Samsons 

Scale  in  Miles 
0         MO       200       300 


Japanese  Occupation  in  the  Russian  Far  East. 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  343 

for  the  trade  of  all  nations."  l  As  can  be  seen  from 
the  Sakhalin  example,  the  Japanese  militarists  under- 
stand their  penetration  in  a  very  different  sense.  Un- 
fortunately, it  is  they  who  act  while  their  diplomats 
are  allowed  to  speak. 

We  have  a  collection  of  sixty  odd  "orders,"  "regula- 
tions," "announcements,"  "appeals"  of  the  Japanese 
military  administration,  introduced  in  Sakhalin  after 
its  occupation,  i.e.,  since  April  29,  1920.2  For  the  first 
three  months  they  tried  to  keep  at  peace  with  the  local 
population.  They  paid  good  prices  for  real  estate, 
they  bought  food,  timber  from  the  peasants,  made  use 
of  their  carriages  for  transport,  employed  Russian 
workingmen  at  good  wages,  etc.  But  at  the  end  of 
July,  when  new  Japanese  troops  were  landed,  this 
policy  was  entirely  changed.  Detachments  of  Japanese 
soldiers  were  sent  around  to  all  the  villages;  about 
5,000  Japanese  workmen  were  imported  speedily,  to 
construct  a  railway  to  the  interior.  A  part  of  the  coal 
mines  was  now  exploited  by  the  Japanese,  new  explora- 
tions of  mines  and  oil-fields  were  hurriedly  carried  out 
by  the  officially  protected  firm,  Mitsu-Bishi  (camou- 
flaged by  an  agreement  with  a  Russian  firm),  timber 
was  cut  indiscriminately,  fisheries  on  the  Sakhalin 
coast  leased  almost  exclusively  to  the  Japanese,  as  the 
Russian  enterprises  were  ruined.  In  order  to  control 
the  island  without  any  obstruction  on  the  part  of  the 
Russian  administration,  the  Japanese  abolished  all 

1The  Japanese  statement  is  included  in  their  "eleven  points" 
unofficially  published  by  the  New  York  Herald  in  November.  The 
Russian  answer,  signed  by  Mr.  Avxentiev  and  myself,  was  made 
public  by  the  Associated  Press  on  Nov.  24,  1921.  Mr.  Hanihara's 
statement  appeared  in  the  New  York  Times  on  December  9,  1921. 

"The  Russian  Sakhalin  as  New  Japan,"  published  in  Russian  at 
Vladivostok,  1921.  The  last  documents  in  this  book  are  dated  May- 
June,  1921. 


344     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

the  local  institutions,  including  the  local  organs  of  self- 
government.  A  sort  of  advisory  councils,  presided 
over  by  "Eldermen" — all  nominated  by  the  Japanese — 
took  their  place,  and  the  only  function  left  for  them 
was  to  make  the  population  acquainted  with  the  Japa- 
nese orders  and  to  execute  these  orders.  Even  the 
clergy  in  the  churches,  and  the  schoolmasters  in  the 
schools  were  made  Japanese  officials. 

The  Russian  civil  and  criminal  code  and  the  Russian 
tribunals  have  been  abolished,  and  Japanese  courts- 
martial  judge  all  offenders  (except  the  Japanese)  ac- 
cording to  the  Japanese  military  law.  Further  posses- 
sion, acquisition  and  sale  of  real  estate  has  been  made 
dependent  on  Japanese  permits.  The  same  measure 
extends  to  the  rights  of  possessing  arms,  hunting,  leas- 
ing plots  of  land,  cutting  timber,  fishing,  forming  so- 
cieties. Acquisition  of  landed  property  and  mining  is 
definitely  forbidden.  All  formerly  acquired  rights  must 
be  registered  by  the  Japanese  notaries.  Political  or- 
ganizations, meetings,  leaflets  and  newspapers  of  "po- 
litical content"  have  been  declared  criminal,  together 
with  rape,  blasphemy,  forgery  and  every  kind  of  viola- 
tion of  public  order.  I  cannot  exhaust  here  all  the 
detailed  regulars  which  control  every  step  and  every 
action  of  the  local  population.  In  the  spring,  1921, 
it  was  formally  declared  that  the  Russian  population 
(thus  cut  off  from  its  own  means  of  subsistence)  can- 
not count  upon  any  earnings  from  the  Japanese  au- 
thorities. They  stopped  buying  everything  from  the 
Russian  inhabitants,  and  even  hay  was  imported  from 
Japan.  The  Russians  are  thus  compelled  to  emigrate, 
and  their  place  is  already  being  taken  by  the  Japanese 
immigrants.  This  is  how  the  Japanese  "peaceful  pene- 
tration" is  being  worked  out. 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  345 

But  however  sad  the  Sakhalin  story  is,  a  still  more 
important  point  is  the  occupation  of  the  opposite  shore 
of  the  Tartar  Straits,  with  the  town  of  Nicolayevsk, 
commanding  the  estuary  of  the  Amur  and  the  harbor 
de-Castries,  which  took  place  on  June  3,  1921.  It 
is  sufficient  to  say  that  the  methods  of  occupation  were 
here  the  same.  An  attempt  of  the  Russian  population 
to  organize,  at  the  Conference  of  Aug.  15-23  (see 
above),  a  temporary  Provincial  Board  of  Administra- 
tion was  vetoed  by  the  Japanese  Military  Administra- 
tive Department.  No  answer  was  given  to  the  demand 
of  the  Conference  to  permit  the  organization  of  an 
armed  detachment  strong  enough  to  defend  the  Udsk 
district  from  the  Bolshevist  forces.  The  question  of 
provisioning  the  population  for  the  winter  of  1920-1921 
was  left  without  consideration.  All  safes,  metallic 
parts,  telephones,  furniture,  engines,  musical  instru- 
ments, stores  of  flour,  oats,  salted  fish,  timber,  vessels, 
etc.,  preserved  from  the  time  when  Triapitsin  destroyed 
Nicolayevsk,  were  requisitioned  and  exported.  Japa- 
nese fishermen  have  been  allowed  to  fish  in  the  internal 
waters  below  Nicolayevsk,  which  violates  the  Fishing 
Convention  of  1907  and  will  lead  to  the  exhaustion 
of  fish  supplies,  which  constituted  75  per  cent,  of  the 
sustenance  of  the  local  population.  New  bids  were 
opened  for  hundreds  of  new  fishing  stations  and,  of 
course,  in  the  absence  of  the  Russian  competition,  they 
were  taken  by  the  Japanese.  Fishing  rights  in  the 
Okhotsk-Kamchatka  region  were  also  enlarged  by  a 
Note  of  January  17,  1921,  presented  by  the  Japanese 
Consul  General  to  the  Vladivostok  Government.  All 
the  provisions  of  the  Fishing  Convention  of  1907  were 
here  completely  disregarded.  In  spite  of  the  numerous 
protests  by  the  Russian  institutions  (February-May, 


346     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

1921),  the  Japanese  Government  realized  all  their  as- 
pirations, and  if  things  are  to  remain  as  they  are  now, 
not  only  is  the  local  population  menaced  with  starva- 
tion and  the  further  development  of  Russian  settle- 
ment checked,  but  the  world  supply — especially  of  sal- 
mon— is  endangered  owing  to  the  Japanese  predatory 
methods  of  fishing. 

But  there  is  another  side  to  that  occupation  of  the 
Amur  estuaries  which  is  by  far  more  important  and 
dangerous  than  even  these  methods  of  the  Japanese 
"peaceful  penetration."  It  is  the  strategical  side  of 
the  question.  With  the  Korean  Straits  in  the  firm 
possession  of  Japan,  with  Vladivostok  under  its  com- 
plete control,  this  was  the  last  remaining  outlet  to  the 
Pacific  for  Russia.  If  the  occupation  of  Nicolayevsk 
should  become  final,  the  Japanese  will  have  attained 
their  aim  of  transforming  the  Japan  Sea  into  the  Japa- 
nese "Mediterranean,"  of  assuring  their  rear  from  any 
Russian  attack  in  the  event  of  some  "unpleasant  con- 
flict" in  the  Pacific  and  of  depriving  the  "white  man" 
of  his  last  footing  on  the  other  side  of  that  ocean. 

What  is  the  official  motive  for  the  occupation  of  Nico- 
layevsk? Sakhalin  was  occupied  "as  a  guaranty  for 
indemnity  in  the  massacre  of  700  Japanese  at  Nicola- 
yevsk." (We  know  how  it  happened.)  But  what 
about  Nicolayevsk?  Mr.  Hanihara  told  us  a  funny 
story.  They  could  not  help  it.  Nicolayevsk  belongs 
to  Sakhalin.  "The  order  adding  this  bit  of  mainland 
to  the  island  was  issued  in  1914  and  according  to  report 
was  the  act  of  a  Russian  official  whose  household  found 
Sakhalin  pretty  dull  and  lonely  in  the  winter  months 
and  thought  that  any  place  on  the  mainland  of  the 
Eastern  Hemisphere,  even  Nicolayevsk,  would  be  a 
little  less  cheerless.  This  is  the  reason  why  the  massa- 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  347 

ere  at  Nicolayevsk  led  to  the  occupation  not  only  of 
Nicolayevsk,  but  of  the  island  opposite — the  island 
which  is  part  of  the  same  administrative  unit." 

We  do  not  quite  see  which  is  the  addition  to  which : 
Nicolayevsk  to  Sakhalin  or  Sakhalin  to  Nicolayevsk? 
If  Sakhalin  may  be  believed  to  be  a  specimen  of  "peace- 
ful penetration/'  Nicolayevsk  is  a  purely  strategic 
measure  preparing  for  war.  We  know  from  Mr.  Kuno, 
as  well  as  from  the  debates  in  the  Japanese  parliament, 
what  war  was  meant  and  why  it  was  necessary  to  oc- 
cupy both  Sakhalin  and  Nicolayevsk.  The  real  rea- 
sons are,  of  course,  quite  different  from  that  futile  "in- 
demnity" question  which,  however  unjust  and  baseless, 
every  Russian  Government,  Petrograd,  Moscow  or 
Chita  would  be  equally  ready  to  settle.  The  Chita 
representatives  at  Washington  declared  that  Triapit- 
sin's  band  was  "a  body  of  irregulars  hostile  to  their 
Government  as  well  as  to  foreigners,  and  that  their 
Government  was  not  responsible  for  the  massacre." 
But  in  spite  of  that  they  were  "willing  to  pay  the  com- 
pensation for  the  loss  of  Japanese  life  and  property," 
and  every  Russian  Government  would  do  the  same,  as 
the  Japanese  procedure  is  quite  disproportionate  to  the 
offense.1 

Such  was  the  situation  created  by  the  Japanese  in 
the  Far  East,  when  the  Washington  Conference  in- 
cluded the  Siberian  question  in  its  agenda.  We  know 
from  Mr.  Hughes'  note  of  March  25,  1921,  what  the 
intentions  of  America  were  when  she  proposed  to  the 
other  powers  to  settle  that  question.  All  the  Russian 
delegations  present  in  Washington  were  unanimous  in 
their  opinion  which  was  perfectly  identical  with  the 

*See  the  Chita  delegation's  statement  in  the  New  York  Times, 
December  15,  1921. 


348     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

American  viewpoint.  "Immediate  evacuation"  has  be- 
come the  slogan  of  even  such  groups  as  the  Vladivostok 
official  and  unofficial  representatives.  They  would  be 
the  first  to  suffer  from  the  Japanese  evacuation,  as  they 
would  be  immediately  attacked  by  the  Reds.  But  the 
only  thing  they  asked  for  was  that  the  Japanese  should 
return  their  arms  and  munitions,  taken  from  them  since 
April,  1920.  They  were  ready  to  run  the  risk  if 
only  the  Japanese  danger  could  be  removed  from 
Russia. 

On  the  other  hand  the  Japanese  were  quite  deter- 
mined to  stay.  While  consenting  to  give  some  vague 
promises  as  to  a  general  evacuation  of  Siberian  terri- 
tories, they  insisted  on  making  an  exception  of  Sakha- 
lin and — obviously — of  Nicolayevsk.  The  British  first 
tried  to  withdraw  the  question  from  the  agenda,  and 
then,  when  they  saw  that  Mr.  Hughes  was  deter- 
mined to  include  it,  they  declared  themselves  neutral 
and  ready  to  rely  on  the  Japanese  promises.  The  atti- 
tude of  the  French  was  uncertain,  as  they  generally 
helped  Japan  without  wishing  to  offend  Russia.  Under 
such  conditions,  there  was  the  danger  that  the  Confer- 
ence would  take  some  middle  course  that  would  end  in 
a  compromise  on  the  Siberian  question.  Mr.  Hughes' 
appeal  for  a  "moral  trusteeship"  over  absent  Russia 
would  then  have  been  cast  aside.  The  slightest  indica- 
tion of  sanctioning,  directly  or  indirectly,  the  Japanese 
occupation  of  Siberia,  given  out  by  an  international 
tribunal  of  such  high  authority,  would  have  been  a 
great  victory  for  Japan  and  a  moral  encouragement  to 
continue.  The  whole  line  of  the  American  policy,  so 
sound  and  consistent,  so  apt  to  lay  down  deep  and  solid 
foundations  for  our  mutual  understanding,  so  unique  in 
the  world  of  international  relations,  would  have  been 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  349 

marred.  Fortunately  for  Russia  and  for  Russo-Ameri- 
can  friendship,  that  danger  was  avoided. 

America,  naturally,  could  not  go  to  war  with  Japan 
for  Siberia.  But  it  did  not  wish  to  change  its  view- 
point and  policy.  Secretary  Hughes  finally  proposed  a 
resolution  according  to  which  the  conflicting  statements 
by  the  Japanese  and  American  delegations  were  spread 
upon  the  records  of  the  Conference  without  any  at- 
tempt at  reconciliation.  The  parties  abstained  from 
public  discussion,  in  order  "that  this  occasion  for  di- 
vergence of  views  between  the  two  governments  be  re- 
moved with  the  least  possible  delay."  But  a  statement 
by  Secretary  Hughes  clearly  emphasized  the  scope  of 
that  divergence.  The  American  Government  took  the 
Japanese  assurances  "to  mean  that  Japan  does  not  seek, 
through  her  military  operation  in  Siberia,  to  impair 
the  rights  of  the  Russian  people  in  any  respect,  or  to 
obtain  any  unfair  commercial  advantages  or  to  absorb 
for  her  own  use  the  Siberian  fisheries,  or  to  set  up  an 
exclusive  exploitation  either  of  the  resources  of  Sakha- 
lin or  of  the  Maritime  Province."  The  State  Depart- 
ment, of  course,  was  in  possession  of  ample  evidence 
that  Japan  had  been  doing  just  these  very  things  she 
was  promising  to  abstain  from  doing.  But,  as  "the 
Government  of  the  United  States  had  no  desire  to  im- 
pute to  the  Government  of  Japan  motives  or  purposes 
other  than  those  which  have  heretofore  been  so  frankly 
avowed,"  it  confined  itself  to  the  expression  of  the  hope, 
"that  Japan  will  find  it  possible  to  carry  out  within  the 
near  future  her  expressed  intention  of  terminating 
finally  the  Siberian  expedition  and  of  restoring  Sakha- 
lin to  the  Russian  people." 

Moreover,  Secretary  Hughes  made  public  the  text  of 
the  American  communication  to  Japan  of  May  31,  1921 


350     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

(answered  by  Japan  on  July  21  in  the  usual  evasive 
phrases).  The  attitude  of  the  United  States  is  de- 
scribed in  detail  in  this  communication.  It  states  re- 
peatedly that  America  feels  responsible  for  the  com- 
mon promises  given  to  the  Russian  people  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  intervention  of  1918  and  that  the  new 
course  of  the  Government  of  Japan  runs  counter  to 
these  promises.  Japanese  encroachments  are  "a  mat- 
ter of  deep  and  sensitive  national  feeling  transcending 
perhaps  even  the  issues  at  stake  among  themselves" 
(see  above).  Japan's  action  "tends  rather  to  increase 
than  to  allay  the  unrest  and  disorder  in  that  region," 
and  it  "keeps  alive  their  antagonism  and  distrust 
towards  outside  political  agencies."  The  reprisals  for 
the  Nicolayevsk  affair  raise  the  question  of  "scrupulous 
fulfillment  of  the  assurances"  given  in  1918  rather  than 
the  question  of  "validity  of  procedure"  according  to  in- 
ternational law.  The  United  States  points  out  the  in- 
admissibility  of  the  "continued  occupation  of  the  stra- 
tegic centers  hi  eastern  Siberia — involving  the  indefi- 
nite possession  of  the  Port  of  Vladivostok,  the  station- 
ing of  troops  at  Khabarovsk,  Nicolayevsk,  de  Castries, 
Mago,  Sophiesk  and  other  important  points,  the  seizure 
of  the  Russian  portion  of  Sakhalin  and  the  establish- 
ment of  civil  administration  which  inevitably  lends 
itself  to  misconception  and  antagonism."  America 
will  never,  "neither  now  nor  hereafter,  recognize  as 
valid  any  claims  of  titles  arising  out  of  the  present 
occupation  and  control,  and  it  cannot  acquiesce  in  any 
action  taken  by  the  Government  of  Japan  which  might 
impair  existing  treaty  rights  or  the  political  or  terri- 
torial integrity  of  Russia."  Russia  will  always  remem- 
ber this  splendid  and  noble  act  of  American  statesman- 
ship. 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  351 

The  Washington  Conference  did  not  discuss  the 
Russo-Chinese  relations,  and  in  general  they  do  not 
present  anything  menacing  the  universal  peace.  How- 
ever, this  chapter  would  be  incomplete  were  I  to  omit 
this  problem.  There  are  two  questions  concerning 
China  which  must  be  settled,  in  the  mutual  interests 
of  both  countries.  In  the  first  place,  the  Government 
of  Pekin  has  suspended  treaty  rights  granting  privi- 
leges of  exterritoriality  to  Russian  nationals.  With  all 
respect  to  the  Chinese  claims  for  restitution  of  their 
sovereign  rights,  in  that  question  of  exterritoriality  the 
Russians  might  prove  by  their  experiences  of  the  last 
twelve  months  that  the  Chinese  judiciary  cannot  be 
considered  at  present  as  equal  to  dealing  with  foreign 
(viz.,  Russian)  citizens  and  interests.  The  great  num- 
ber of  Russians  who  live  in  the  railway  zone  and 
Kharbin,  makes  the  issue  particularly  important  for 
them.  But  this  is  a  general  issue  and  it  would  not  call 
for  a  specially  Russian  solution  if  there  were  a  legal 
Russian  Government  at  present.  As  things  are,  some- 
body must  take  care  of  them,  and  we  should  be  espe- 
cially grateful  if  it  were  America. 

Another  question,  that  of  the  Chinese  Eastern  Rail- 
way, is  particularly  important  for  Russia.  If  Russian 
rights  and  territories  are  set  free  from  the  Japanese 
encroachments  in  the  Maritime  Province,  if  the  white 
man  is  restored  to  his  position  on  the  Pacific,  but  the 
Chinese  Eastern  Railway  is  permitted  to  change  hands, 
a  good  part  of  the  result  attained  would  be  destroyed. 
A  look  at  the  map  will  show  that  the  road  through 
Manchuria  is  the  short  cut  from  Chita  to  Vladivostok. 
The  northern  line,  from  Chita  to  Khabarovsk,  follow- 
ing the  Amur  River  to  the  East  and  then  abruptly  turn- 
ing up  the  Usuri  River  to  the  south,  until  it  reaches 


352     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Vladivostok,  was  very  much  delayed  in  execution  owing 
to  the  difficulties  of  climate  and  soil,  especially  in  its 
western  section.  This  is  a  region  with  temperature 
swinging  from  82  degrees  below  zero  in  winter  to  93 
degrees  above  zero  in  June.  The  soil  never  thaws  to  a 
depth  of  more  than  3  feet.  Vegetation  is  scant  and  the 
population  is  extremely  scarce.  The  line  may  open  up 
important  mineral  resources,  but  it  cannot  serve  the 
aims  either  of  trade  or  of  settlement.  That  is  why  as 
early  as  1896  an  agreement  was  concluded  between  the 
Chinese  Government  and  a  Russian  corporation,  backed 
by  the  Government,  the  Russo-Chinese  Bank,  for  the 
construction  and  management  of  the  southern  line, 
through  Manchuria.  There  was  nothing  in  that  agree- 
ment which  might  interfere  with  the  "open  door  and 
equal  opportunity  policy,"  no  claims  for  any  "special 
interests"  or  "superiority  of  rights"  for  Russia. 

The  encroachments  on  the  rights  of  China  by  Russia, 
as  well  as  by  other  nations,  which  led  to  the  enuncia- 
tion of  Secretary  Hay's  doctrine  on  September  6,  1899, 
were  posterior  to  that  treaty.  As  the  starting  point 
and  the  terminus  of  that  railroad  were  on  Russian  terri- 
tory, the  treaty  secured  for  Russia,  besides  certain 
facilities  for  constructing  and  running  the  line,  com- 
plete freedom  of  transit  of  goods  and  passengers,  includ- 
ing munitions  and  soldiers.  But  goods  conveyed  to 
China  and  passengers  booked  for  the  interior,  had  to 
submit  to  the  general  rules  of  Manchurian  traffic.  It 
was,  as  Mr.  Thomas  F.  Millard  stated,1  "a  cautious  and 
pacific  course,"  which  might  "make  Russian  occupation 

*"The  New  Far  East,"  129-30.  See  also  the  same  author's  "Our 
Eastern  Question"  for  documents  connected  with  Mr.  P.  C.  Knox's 
attempt  to  neutralize  the  Manchurian  railways.  The  statement 
quoted  in  the  text  is  fully  borne  out  by  Count  Witte's  personal 
recollections.  See  his  Memoirs,  English  edition. 


RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON  353 

advantageous  to  the  world  at  large,  including  the  na- 
tive population."  "A  military  policy  was  substituted 
for  the  commercial  one,"  as  soon  as  Admiral  Alexeiev 
was  permitted  to  take  the  place  of  Count  Witte,  and 
since  then  "Russia's  designs  in  Manchuria  were  des- 
tined to  fall."  In  1910  Russian  diplomats  spoke  of  the 
"military  and  political  interests  of  Russia  in  Man- 
churia," and  insisted  on  Russia's  right  to  control 
China's  railway  policies.  Secretary  Knox's  proposal 
broke  down  on  that  rock,  but  the  world  came  to  know 
what  is  wrong  about  the  international  policy  toward 
China.  Democratic  Russia  is  certain  to  bring  the  whole 
question  back  to  the  stage  previous  to  the  Alexeiev- 
Hay-Knox  development,  and  to  set  the  Russian  com- 
mercial policy  free  from  any  "strategical"  or  political 
implications. 

Russia  needs  its  free  outlet  through  Vladivostok  no 
less  than  Poland  needs  its  outlet  through  Danzig.  The 
moral -basis  of  the  claim  is  the  same,  but  the  legal  basis 
is  much  stronger,  because  Vladivostok  is  a  thoroughly 
Russian  town,  surrounded  by  Russian  territory.  There 
is  this  difference  also,  that  the  Russian  hinterland 
which  needs  this  free  port  is  the  immense  plain  of 
Siberia.  Its  economic  development,  the  growth  of  its 
towns,  the  exploitation  of  Siberia's  Natural  resources, 
the  speedily  increasing  export  of  foodstuffs  and  raw 
materials  necessary  for  the  world, — all  this  on  almost 
an  American  scale, — all  this  depends  on  the  continua- 
tion of  a  free  transit  to  the  Pacific,  upon  which  the 
modern  advance  of  Siberia  is  chiefly  based.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  is  now  Japan  which  will  be  obliged  to 
proffer  its  "strategic  and  political"  reasons  for  preserv- 
ing its  way  over  Manchuria  and  Mongolia.  Control 
over  railway  communication  in  the  interior  is  an  essen- 


354     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

tial  part  of  that  general  scheme  of  Japan  which  is  hi 
process  of  realization  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  All  the 
resources  of  the  hinterland  will  thus  strengthen  the 
offensive  force  of  the  Japanese  army  and  fleet,  while 
with  the  removal  of  Russia  from  the  Pacific  Japan's 
rear  will  be  perfectly  secured  from  any  operations  on 
the  mainland.  It  is  especially  here  that  the  principle 
of  international  "trusteeship"  can  be  easily  applied. 
Ever  since  the  international  intervention  the  Chinese 
Eastern  Railway  has  been  administered  by  an  interna- 
tionally organized  board  with  the  participation  of  Rus- 
sian representatives.  There  is  no  reason  to  change  that 
system  now,  in  the  absence  of  Russia. 

I  hope  the  reader  will  realize  how  great  is  the  service 
that  the  United  States  rendered  us  by  its  refusal  to 
recognize  the  state  of  things  created  by  Japan  in  east- 
ern Siberia.  I  also  have  tried  to  make  it  clear  just  how 
important  it  is  for  the  United  States  itself  to  preserve 
the  Russian  status  possidendi  in  Siberia,  in  so  far  as  it 
will  be  upheld  by  the  new  democratic  Russia. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  TO  THE  WORLD'S 
CIVILIZATION. 

It  is  a  great  relief  to  a  Russian,  at  a  moment  when 
Russia  presents  an  appalling  show  of  utter  destruction 
and  heart-rending  misery  and  when  the  fate  of  its 
nations  and  conditions  of  closer  cooperation  of  the 
world  powers  are  discussed  in  her  absence,  to  speak  on 
that  other,  never-dying  Russia  which  has  already  given 
to  the  world  so  many  tokens  of  its  moral  and  intellec- 
tual power  in  the  Society  of  Nations. 

Russia  is  no  stranger  to  the  world.  Nor  is  she  a  new- 
comer clamoring  for  recognition.  Were  Russia  to  die 
now,  her  spiritual  heritage  would  give  her  a  prominent 
place  in  the  common  treasury  of  world  civilization.  And 
Russia  is  far  from  having  spoken  her  last  word. 

Russia  did  not  take  part  in  the  Allied  feasts  of  vic- 
tory and  peace,  nor  was  she  asked  to  express  her  opinion 
before  the  international  tribunals.  But  Russia  is  pres- 
ent— on  the  shelves  of  your  libraries,  in  the  minds  and 
the  sentiments  of  millions  of  readers  who  day  by  day 
witness  her  moral  triumphs.  You  give  your  applause 
to  that  Russia  in  your  concerts  and  on  your  stage,  and 
it  is  often  Russian  artists  who  win  your  favor.  You 
learn  to  know  that  Russia  in  your  picture  galleries. 
Tolstoy  and  Dostoyevsky,  Tchaikovsky  and  Rachman- 
inov,  Vereschaghin  and  Roerich,  Anna  Pavlova  and 

355 


356     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Chaliapin,  and  so  many  others  are  known  and  appre- 
ciated in  this  country  as  well  as  in  mine. 

I  am  proud  to  say,  moreover,  that  Russia's  creative 
geniuses  are  given  so  much  attention  not  because  they 
are  good  imitators  of  arts  invented  by  other  advanced 
countries.  It  is  the  especially  Russian  style  that  at- 
tracts you,  and  you  prefer  the  bold  and  original  masters 
of  art  who  give  away  to  you  a  part  of  our  national  soul, 
to  the  docile  pupils  who  copy  the  foreign  patterns  per- 
fectly. 

Let  us,  however,  agree  on  the  exact  meaning  of  that 
term:  "national  art."  There  are  certain  outward  signs 
and  symbols  of  nationality  which  unfailingly  evoke  in 
you  the  idea  of  this  or  that  particular  ethnic  group. 
When  a  national  flag  is  waved,  or  when  an  actress  wears 
a  Phrygian  cap,  you  know  at  once  what  it  means.  Stage 
managers  know  how  to  make  you  recognize  a  Russian. 
A  combination  of  colors  in  fancy  dress,  a  series  of  move- 
ments hi  dance,  or  a  tune  of  a  known  national  song,  a 
few  lines  of  architectural  design  are  sufficient  to  attain 
that  aim. 

All  this  is  national,  and  often  nationally  traditional. 
But  it  is  not  yet  a  contribution  to  the  world  civiliza- 
tion. It  is  just  ethnography.  A  certain  sequence  of 
colors,  or  sounds,  or  lines  designates  a  Russian,  as  it 
may  designate  a  Bushman  or  a  Singhalese.  Costumes 
for  ethnographic  museums  or  for  theatrical  pageants 
can  be  collected  from  every  corner  of  the  world.  But 
this  is  not  art.  Our  writers,  our  painters,  our  musicians, 
our  artists  claim  much  more  than  that.  What  is  na- 
tional and  Russian  about  them,  is  not  necessarily  fet- 
tered to  a  special  make  or  color  of  dress,  or  to  a  tune 
and  rhythm  of  a  song.  They  may  speak  to  you  the 
common  language  of  the  art  of  civilized  humanity,  free 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  357 

from  ethnographic  conventionalities,  and  they  never- 
theless pretend  to  remain  Russians.  It  is  practically 
the  only  means  to  make  the  Russian  soul  a  subject  of 
interest  for  you,  in  its  special  way  of  being  affected  by 
emotions  which  are  universally  human  and  substan- 
tially modern.  When  you  finally  learn  to  know  the 
Russian  soul  as  a  part  of  your  own,  and  when  you  be- 
gin to  feel  that  with  her  aid  you  have  learned  to  under- 
stand your  unexplored  self  better  and  deeper  than  be- 
fore,— it  is  only  then  that  you  will  understand  the  kind 
of  contribution  that  humanity  has  received  from  Rus- 
sia. I  know  that  any  one  of  you  who  really  has  had 
that  thrill  of  emotion — so  many  have  had  it — will  love 
Russia. 

My  task  is  thus  very  limited.  Such  things  alone  as 
can  be  looked  at  as  an  actual  contribution  to  the  world's 
moral,  mental  and  esthetic  culture,  will  be  discussed 
here.  I  am  not  going  to  talk  to  you  of  that  long  period 
of  our  past  that  is  entirely  unknown  to  you,  when  Rus- 
sia was  preparing  for  her  present  role.  Our  modern 
soul,  which  appeals  to  the  world — and  our  methods 
of  art  which  really  have  made  it  universally  known — 
both  are  of  comparatively  recent  provenience.  There 
are  certain  things  in  this  part  which  have  also  deserved 
to  be  known  to  you,  but  partly  due  to  the  imperfection 
of  international  intercourse  in  former  times,  partly  due 
to  their  having  been  too  idiomatic,  too  much  specifi- 
cally Russian,  these  things  have  remained  inaccessible 
to  the  world,  and  I  shall  not  mention  them  in  this  brief 
outline. 

You  also  will  not  expect  me  to  speak  on  the  Russian 
people  in  general.  A  national  soul  reflects  itself  in  the 
most  conscious  way  through  that  "sensorium"  of  a 
nation,  its  thinking  and  feeling  organ,  its  "intellec- 


358     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

tuals."  If  that  brain  of  a  nation  is  lacking  or  unde- 
veloped, you  may  speak  of  its  national  folk-lore,  its 
songs,  its  ethnography,  but  the  contents  of  the  national 
soul  remains  inaccessible  and  uninteresting  to  the  world. 
Of  course,  the  Russian  intellectuals  were  often  blamed 
in  Russia  itself  for  having  detached  themselves  too 
much  from  their  own  people,  in  order  to  be  able  to 
represent  their  nation  and  to  reflect  the  popular  mind. 
The  part  of  truth  in  this  assertion  is,  that  for  a  certain 
time  a  part  of  the  Russian  intellectuals  were  so  much 
influenced  by  European  civilization  that  they  de- 
nounced and  condemned  their  own  nationality.  But 
even  then  they  were  unable  to  separate  themselves 
from  it,  and  their  condemnation  remained  rather  the- 
oretical. That  period  of  close  imitation  of  foreign 
fashions  in  living  and  literature  lasted  for  about  a  cen- 
tury after  Peter  the  Great's  bold  leap  to  the  West 
(1720-1820).  However,  even  then  excesses  of  imita- 
tion ("xenomania")  provoked  excesses  of  nationalist 
reaction  ("xenophobia").  Taken  as  a  whole,  that  pe- 
riod of  preparatory  education  was  inevitable  and  nec- 
essary for  Russia  to  make  up  for  the  time  lost.  It  took 
five  generations  to  introduce  the  stage  of  national  con- 
sciousness. That  is  why  only  the  three  or  four  last 
generations  were  able  to  speak  to  the  world. 

What  did  they  reveal  to  it?  Before  going  into  de- 
tails, let  me  try  to  define  what  is  in  general  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  national  soul  which  made  it  appear  so  at- 
tractive. I  should  summarize  it  in  three  principal 
features  which  are,  of  course,  interdependent.  We  are 
fresh  and  primitive.  We  are  free  and  non-conventional. 
We  are  true  to  our  impulses  and  principles  and  unwill- 
ing to  compromise. 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  359 

The  Russian  people  as  well  as  their  intellectuals  are, 
indeed,  not  only  young,  but  primitive.  That  is  not  a 
reflection  on  them.  It  is  a  promise.  The  western 
world,  time-worn  and  weary,  as  it  were,  of  its  long  cul- 
tural existence,  longs  for  the  primitive.  Our  primitive- 
ness  does  not  exclude  refinement.  But  we  are  not 
"biases":  let  me  use  that  untranslatable  French  term, 
invented  by  the  oldest  nation  of  western  Europe.  You 
now  see  our  chance.  There  is  nothing  new  under  the 
sun.  But  everything  is  new  for  one  who  lives  for  the 
first  time. 

The  Russian  intellectuals  are  not  conventional. 
They  are  not  committed  to  any  secular  tradition.  Such 
spiritual  tradition  as  had  been  in  the  process  of  making 
was  broken  by  Peter  the  Great.  It  was  not  the  result 
of  his  personal  whim :  it  was  a  fated  necessity  for  Rus- 
sia to  move  on  and  to  retrieve  the  time  lost,  not  to  be 
left  behind  by  the  world  in  motion.  Our  great  writer, 
Alexander  Herzen,  said  that  a  Russian  is  the  freest 
man  in  the  world,  because  he  wears  no  fetters  of  past 
ages.  That  sort  of  freedom  may  have  its  drawbacks. 
It  certainly  has  its  advantages. 

Absolutely  free  in  the  choice  of  their  leading  view- 
points, our  intellectuals  regularly  followed  the  changing 
European  fashions.  That  is  why  they  also  changed 
their  criteria  of  thought  and  action  with  almost  every 
generation.  They  were  rationalistic  in  the  XVIII  Cen- 
tury, romantic  and  mystical  at  the  beginning  of  the 
XIX,  realistic  and  positivist  in  the  middle  of  the  Cen- 
tury, romantic  and  religious  again  at  its  end.  At  the 
beginning  of  the  XX  Century  they  became  revolution- 
ary, and  they  probably  are  "non-party"  to-day.  But 
whatever  their  view,  they  always  strove  for  unity  of 


360     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

thought,  unity  between  thought  and  action.  The  Rus- 
sian intellectuals  have  made  their  own  that  German 
term,  also  untranslatable:  "Weltanschauung." 

The  principles  which  our  intellectuals  worshiped 
were  often  too  abstract  and  academic,  inapplicable  to 
practice,  not  open  to  compromise.  Our  intellectuals 
did  not  know  much  of  actual  life.  But  they  were 
always  ready  to  sacrifice  their  lives  for  their  ideals,  and 
that  characteristic  feature  of  our  intellectuals  made 
many  foreign  observers  call  them  religious  without  re- 
ligion. 

You  will  find  all  these  features  reflected  in  Russia's 
contribution  to  the  world  civilization.  Russian  crea- 
tive geniuses  are  regularly  bold  and  radical,  in  the  sense 
that  they  do  not  stop  before  any  consequence  of  the 
idea  which  they  deem  to  be  true.  They  carry  their 
idea  to  the  end.  This  feature  is  preserved  through  gen- 
erations, just  because,  as  I  have  stated,  every  genera- 
tion begins  anew.  "Sons"  are,  as  a  rule,  at  variance 
with  their  "fathers."  They  take  up  the  last  sugges- 
tions of  Europe,  they  work  them  out  independently, 
and  thus  give  original  creations  which  make  their  way 
outside  of  Russia,  and  wake  up  new  life.  At  the  same 
time  within  Russia  they  succumb  to  their  pitiless  logic 
and,  unable  to  find  outlets  from  blind  alleys,  they  are 
abruptly  relieved  by  the  entirely  new  ideas  of  the  fol- 
lowing generation.  No  continuous  tradition  could  thus 
be  formed.  Russian  masters  of  art  remained  icono- 
clasts and  explorers  of  paths  unknown. 

Russian  intellectuals  are  entirely  sincere  with  them- 
selves in  their  creations.  This  is  the  source  and  the 
secret  of  their  force.  Whatever  they  do,  they  mean  it 
seriously.  They  are  not  amateurs  and  epicureans,  but 
prophets  and  preachers.  Faith  in  their  vocation  and 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  361 

steadiness  of  purpose  often  made  great  masters  of  our 
dilettanti. 

Our  authors  and  artists  remain  natural  even  in  the 
midst  of  their  extreme  affectation,  assumed  postures 
and  mannerisms.  They  have  no  false  shame  and  no 
fear  of  public  opinion.  The  only  thing  they  are  afraid 
of,  is  not  to  be  true  to  themselves.  They  prefer  being 
cranks  to  being  commonplace.  Far  from  being  afraid 
to  look  what  they  are,  they  strive  to  reveal  the  inmost 
recesses  of  their  soul.  J.  J.  Rousseau's  "Confessions" 
is  an  exception  in  the  western  literature.  In  Russia, 
confessions  are  almost  the  rule.  It  is  easier  to  be  inti- 
mate with  us — or  not  to  know  us  at  all — than  to  remain 
at  a  distance,  on  terms  of  simple  acquaintance.  We 
make  friends,  or  we  quarrel,  but  we  do  not  like  to 
entertain  neutral  and  indifferent  relations. 

Russian  art  and  literature,  while  reflecting  these 
qualities  and  drawbacks  of  the  national  soul,  enjoyed 
the  same  kind  of  influence,  but  probably  in  a  higher 
degree,  as  was  generally  exercised  by  the  northern  art 
and  literature.  In  the  countries  of  southern  tempera- 
ment and  old  culture  it  was  obviously  the  freshness  of 
emotion  that  pleased  and  made  them  forgive  the  na- 
ivete of  the  northern  "barbarians."  In  the  countries 
of  younger  psychology,  the  Russian  attempts  to  fathom 
the  depths  of  the  national  soul  proved  especially  help- 
ful to  a  better  cognizance  of  their  own,  as  the  ways  of 
thinking  and  feeling  were  here  more  congenial. 

We  now  have  the  thread  which  will  help  us  through 
the  labyrinth  of  names  and  facts  connected  with  our 
subject.  The  kind  of  contribution  made  by  Russia 
has  just  been  described.  Let  us  see  who  were  the  con- 
tributors. Of  course,  only  the  most  representative  or 
typical  ones  can  here  be  mentioned. 


362     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Just  a  few  lines  on  Russia's  contribution  to  the  world 
of  science,  before  I  speak  of  literature  and  art.  Impor- 
tant as  this  kind  of  contribution  is,  it  generally  escapes 
the  attention  of  the  public.  The  work  of  the  Russian 
scholar  is  very  well  known  to  respective  specialists,  each 
in  his  branch.  It  was  particularly  well  known  and  fol- 
lowed up  during  the  recent  period,  ojving  to  the  better 
organization  of  international  learned  intercourse.  Let 
me  only  mention  that  even  in  this  department  of  human 
culture — the  least  national  of  all — Russian  peculiari- 
ties reflect  themselves  in  a  very  marked  way.  Russian 
scholars  brought  to  their  study  of  science  that  same  sin- 
cerity, that  same  daring  initiative,  that  same  taste  for 
philosophical  unity  of  thought,  of  which  we  have  al- 
ready spoken.  Russian  scientists  do  not  belong  to  the 
category  of  compilers  of  handbooks  and  compendiums, 
they  are  not  the  registrars  of  acquired  knowledge,  but 
pathfinders.  They  dig  deep  to  the  root,  each  in  his 
place,  and  they  look  at  detailed  research  as  a  means  for 
universal  constructions.  On  the  very  threshold  of  the 
history  of  Russian  science  we  meet  a  man  who  is  a 
symbol  and  an  achievement.  I  mean  our  great  Lo- 
monosov,  the  man  from  the  people,  a  peasant  who  came 
on  foot  from  his  village  to  the  newly  built  University 
and  Academy  of  Sciences  in  Petrograd  and  who  finally 
found  himself  in  advance  of  European  science.  In  the 
midst  of  the  XVIII  Century,  he  became  "the  father  of 
physical  chemistry."  He  believed  in  "corpuscular  phi- 
losophy" ;  he  tried  to  apply  qualitative  analysis  to  the 
study  of  physical  properties  of  bodies.  In  his  inquiries 
he  implied  the  principles  of  conservation  of  matter  and 
of  motion ;  he  established  certain  propositions  of  mod- 
ern physics,  such  as  the  mechanical  theory  of  heat,  the 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  363 

kinetic  theory  of  gases,  the  continuity  of  the  fhree  states 
of  matter,  etc.1 

In  the  XIX  Century  also  many  names  of  Russian 
scholars  were  known  outside  of  Russia  for  their  mas- 
tery in  combining  detailed  study  with  philosophical  syn- 
thesis, such  as  Lobachevsky  in  mathematics;  Mend- 
eleyev  in  chemistry;  Sechenov  and  Pavlov  in  physiol- 
ogy ;  Timiryazev,  the  renowned  follower  of  Darwin,  as 
well  as  Kovalevsky  and  Metchnikov,  in  the  theory  of 
evolution;  another  Kovalevsky  (M.  M.)  in  the  science 
of  comparative  law;  Sir  Paul  Vinogradov  in  history, 
and  others.  Their  names  are  all  connected  with  some 
capital  reform  in  their  respective  sciences.  Allow  me 
to  add  to  them  one  more  name,  that  of  Dr.  J.  J.  Manuk- 
hin,  now  in  Paris,  who  has  just  found  the  means  to 
save  humanity  from  tuberculosis. 

But  let  us  pass  to  the  proper  domain  of  the  national 
soul:  art  and  fiction.  To  make  my  short  review  as 
clear  as  possible,  I  shall  classify  the  outstanding  facts 
according  to  chronological  periods,  not  according  to  the 
separate  branches  to  which  they  refer:  fiction,  painting, 
music,  theater,  dance.  We  thus  shall  avoid  many 
repetitions,  as  the  same  spirit  of  a  certain  period  reflects 
itself  in  all  the  separate  branches  of  art.  The  view  of 
art  as  being  united  and  forming  a  whole  through  its 
different  ramifications,  is  one  of  the  basic  principles 
of  the  Russian  monistic  trend  of  mind. 

Four  consecutive  periods  can  be  distinguished  in  the 
process  of  the  revelation  of  the  Russian  soul  through 
Russian  art: 

'See  for  further  details  A.  Lappo-Danilevsky,  "The  Development 
of  Science  and  Learning  in  Russia,"  in  "Russian  Realities  and  Prob- 
lems," Ed.  by  J.  D.  Duff,  Cambridge,  1917. 


364     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

1.  1820-1850— The  birth  of  the  national  schools. 

2.  1850-1880 — The  expansion  of  realism. 

3.  1880-1905 — The  romantic  revival. 

4.  1905-1921 — The  contemporary  period. 

I  leave  out,  as  you  see,  the  entire  period  before  1820. 
It  was,  as  I  have  said,  the  period  of  imitation,  and  it 
fell  in  line  with  the  then  social  mission  of  art:  to  serve 
the  esthetic  tastes  and  social  conveniences  of  the  Court 
and  the  Nobility.  So  far  as  its  creations  are  concerned, 
it  was  the  bombastic  style  of  pseudo-Classicism,  or  the 
lusciously  sweetish  style  of  Sentimentalism,  which  was 
equally  artificial.  Both  contrasted  completely  with 
and  were  entirely  foreign  to,  the  substance  of  the  Rus- 
sian soul.  Through  such  a  heterogeneous  medium,  na- 
tive qualities  of  artists  could  not  make  themselves 
manifest,  and  the  only  form  of  protest  left  to  them  was 
to  return  to  the  plain  art  of  the  folk. 

A  truly  national  Russian  art  began  to  appear  at  the 
end  of  that  period  of  preparation.  However,  the  initial 
revolt  against  artificiality  and  conventionality  in  art 
was  raised  under  another  imported  banner — that  of 
European  Romanticism.  National  Russian  schools 
soon  evolved  and  got  rid  of  this  foreign  influence.  The 
process  of  that  final  emancipation  fills  the  entire  period 
between  1820-1850.  With  its  consummation  the  chief 
preliminary  condition  for  Russia's  influence  over  the 
world  was  accomplished.  Russian  art  was  now  freed 
from  its  swaddling  clothes. 

Just  because  this  period  from  1820-1850  was  a 
transitional  one,  the  world  did  not  learn  to  know  well 
our  great  writers  and  artists  of  that  period.  However 
great  to  us,  they  became  known  outside  of  Russia  only 
at  a  later  date,  rather  from  history  than  from  direct  con- 
tact, and  mostly  only  as  names.  Our  great  poet,  Push- 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  365 

kin,  we  call  the  father  of  our  national  school  in  litera- 
ture. In  music  it  is  Glinka.  It  is  difficult  to  give  one 
single  name  for  painting,  which  is  always  a  little  late 
in  following  the  lead.  I  shall  give  you  two  names  of 
men  representing  different  tendencies:  Brullov  and 
Alexander  Ivanov. 

Some  of  the  subjects  of  Pushkin's  dramatic  poetry 
are  known  to  you  from  the  Russian  Opera.  The  libret- 
tos for  Glinka's  "Ruslan  and  Ludmilla,"  Dargomish- 
sky's  the  "Rusalka"  and  the  "Stone  Guest" (Don  Juan), 
Tchaikovsky's  "Eugene  Oneggin"  and  "The  Queen  of 
Spades,"  Mussorgsky's  "Boris  Godunov,"  Rimsky- 
Korsakov's  "Mozart  and  Salieri"  are  based  on  Push- 
kin's poetry.  Pushkin's  lyrics,  as  all  others,  lose  very 
much  in  translation.  Pushkin's  chief  merit,  from  a 
historical  viewpoint,  lies  in  how,  not  in  what  he  has 
written.  Pushkin  gave  us  that  literary  language  which 
we  now  use.  Before  him  we  had  had  a  "high  style"  for 
classical  odes  and  a  "low  style"  of  spoken  language, 
which  was  not  considered  dignified  enough  to  be  used 
for  literature.  Pushkin  hammered  out  of  both  a  lan- 
guage free  from  obsolete  and  conventional  rules,  rich 
and  pliant  and  able  to  reflect  all  shades  and  colors  of 
the  living  reality.  Pushkin's  protest  against  conven- 
tionalism may  be  drawn  from  Byron,  and  his  sanction 
for  realism  may  have  been  found  by  him  in  Shake- 
speare. The  result,  however,  is  genuinely  Russian  and 
thoroughly  national.  Pushkin  and  his  friends  unbound 
our  feeling  and  thought,  thus  giving  us  means  for  their 
adequate  expression.  The  necessary  weapon  for  trans- 
mitting Russian  thought  to  the  world  was  now  ready. 

I  must  not  fail  to  mention  here  another  writer  of 
that  preparatory  epoch,  who  trod  the  path  opened  by 
Pushkin,  and  who  indeed  contributed  to  the  world  of 


366     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

literature.  Nicholas  Gogol  gave  you  the  mirror  for 
that  part  of  the  Russian  soul  where  mirth  and  sorrow 
are  welded  in  one.  Like  Moliere,  he  scoops  out  the  bed- 
rock of  human  weaknesses,  in  his  south-Russian  vein  of 
humor,  and  like  Moliere,  in  spite  of  the  remoteness  of 
the  period  he  lived  in,  he  is  immortal.  Characteristi- 
cally enough,  he  is  only  now  made  known  to  the  world, 
in  recent  translations.  For  you,  he  is  one  of  the  many. 
To  us  Gogol  is  the  first  after  Pushkin. 

I  named  Glinka  as  the  originator  of  our  national 
school  of  music.  Pushkin  had  predecessors  (like  Ka- 
ramzin)  who  paved  the  way  for  him.  Glinka  had  none. 
Since  the  two  Empresses,  Anna  and  Elizabeth,  who 
succeeded  Peter  the  Great  (1730-1761),  we  had  Italians 
at  the  Court,  and  Italian  music  held  the  field  without 
any  opposition.  Italian  bel  canto  dominated  our  pub- 
lic. Glinka  also  proved  unable  to  throw  off  this  yoke 
at  once.  But  he  succeeded  in  introducing  the  national 
element  in  music.  His  melody  is  the  melody  of  our 
national  song — not  mere  imitation,  but  imbued  with 
its  spirit.  His  harmony  brings  us  back  to  the  Russian 
Church  choir,  which  has  had  so  much  attention  paid 
it  recently  in  this  country.  So  far  as  his  subjects  are 
concerned,  Glinka  is  already  in  search  of  simplicity  and 
freedom  from  affectation  on  the  stage.  He  also  begins 
the  search  for  musical  themes  in  the  East,  which  is 
another  typical  feature  of  the  national  Russian  com- 
posers. 

Glinka's  lead  is  soon  followed  by  Dargomishsky, 
whose  tendencies  are  Wagnerian  before  Wagner.  "It 
is  my  wish,"  says  Dargomishsky,  "that  the  music  should 
interpret  the  words.  Truth  is  indispensable  for  me." 
And,  indeed,  Dargomishsky's  "Stone  Guest"  turns  from 
Italian  arias  and  appoggiaturas  to  dialogue  and  recita- 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  367 

tive.  "He  knows,"  Cesar  Cui  says  of  him,  "how  to 
fit  each  period  or  sentence  with  the  musical  form  best 
adapted  to  it.  ...  With  him  all  the  words  of  the  text 
(which  he  faithfully  reproduced  from  Pushkin)  and  all 
the  details  of  the  drama  seem  to  be  of  a  piece  with  the 
music." 

The  past  of  our  painting  also  consists  of  imitation  of 
France  and  Italy.  The  evolution  here  is  slow  and  no 
one  is  equal  to  Pushkin  or  Glinka,  Brullov,  a  great 
talent  and  the  only  educated  painter  of  the  epoch,  is 
often  called  "the  Russian 'Delacroix."  But  that  kind 
of  Romanticism  is,  as  yet,  too  artificial  and  Brullov 
lingers  too  much  in  his  academic  tradition  in  order  to 
become  a  real  liberator.  He  also  keeps  too  much  aloof 
from  real  life;  he  is  too  proud  and  too  lofty,  to  descend 
to  the  lower  depths.  Alexander  Ivanov,  to  the  con- 
trary, is  devoured  by  a  burning  desire  to  bring  life  to 
his  canvas.  But  it  is  not  Russian  life;  the  painter  feels 
powerless  to  reconcile  idealistic  and  realistic  elements 
in  his  paintings  and  he  dies  from  unaccomplished 
efforts.  We  have  two  more  notable  painters  who  strive 
for  life  and  reality:  Venetsianov  and  Fedotov — "the 
Gogol  of  painting."  'But  the  former  is  still  too  con- 
ventional and  the  latter  is  held  back  and  obscured  by 
the  shining  star  of  Brullov:  it  is  still  considered  "low 
style"  to  treat  of  everyday  subjects.  This  is  how  the 
real  beginning  of  our  national  school  in  painting  was 
postponed  until  the  following  period. 

This  second  period  (1850-1880),  which  nearly  coin- 
cides with  the  reign  of  Alexander  II  and  with  the  period 
of  "great  reforms,"  beginning  with  the  emancipation 
of  the  peasants,  is  also  a  period  of  exceptionally  speedy 
growth  and  expansion  of  the  national  creative  power 
in  all  the  branches  of  art.  It  is  our  first  really  classical 


368      RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

period,  and  a  great  number  of  first  rate  writers  and 
artists  from  this  epoch  may  be  quoted  as  having  reached 
world  fame  and  recognition.  The  avowed  aim  of  all  of 
them  is  the  same :  to  attain  complete  truth,  while  using 
complete  freedom  in  their  methods  and  approaching 
reality  as  closely  as  possible. 

Literature  was  the  first  to  start  on  that  campaign  of 
naturalism.  Three  great  Russian  novelists  tower  high 
above  all  their  contemporaries  in  the  esteem  of  the 
world:  Turgeniev,  Dostoyevsky,  Tolstoy.  They  are 
all  Russian  intellectuals:  i.e.,  they  are  not  only  masters 
of  fiction,  but  philosophers  and  deep  thinkers  on  social 
and  moral  problems.  They  lived  at  a  period  when  the 
democratic  social  layers  were  just  beginning  to  be  rep- 
resented in  the  field  of  literature  by  their  younger 
contemporaries  of  democratic  extraction.  The  revolu- 
tionary movement  in  Russia  was  just  beginning. 
Themselves,  they  belonged  to  the  gentry  and  to  the 
generation  of  the  "forties"  which  here  met  with  that 
democratic  generation  of  the  "sixties."  Their  way  of 
reacting  to  the  new  movement  was  extremely  charac- 
teristic of  their  own  different  tempers  and  views. 

Turgeniev — a  nobleman  by  education  and  a  Euro- 
pean by  taste — looked  at  the  democratic  movement 
with  warm  sympathy,  and  in  his  novels  he  gave  us  a 
series  of  artistic  revelations  as  to  its  spirit  and  soul. 
He  also  tried  personally  to  bridge  the  psychological 
chasm  which  already  had  opened  between  "Fathers  and 
Sons."  Dostoyevsky,  in  contradistinction  to  Tur- 
geniev, was  intensely  Russian,  in  what  was  good  and 
bad  in  him.  He  was  full  of  hatred  against  the  new 
movement,  which  he  knew  at  much  closer  range,  from 
having  himself  become  its  victim.  He  also  gave  us 
pictures,  sometimes  prophetic,  of  what  would  happen 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  369 

in  Russia  under  a  revolution.  But  in  his  passionate  and 
biased  attacks  he  confounded  the  idea  of  revolution 
as  a  great  step  towards  democracy  with  its  local  and 
temporary  embodiment.  Tolstoy,  an  aristocrat  by 
birth  and  a  democrat  by  the  trend  of  his  life,  kept  aloof 
from  current  politics.  Tolstoy  of  this  period  is  the 
great  novelist,  not  the  great  moralist  that  he  became  in 
the  second  half  of  his  life.  But  he  already  tries  to  be 
of  all  times  and  to  speak  not  to  literary  circles  but  to 
humanity.  It  was  then  that  he  gave  us  what  he  him- 
self called  his  "Russian  Iliad,"  the  great  novel,  "War 
and  Peace." 

I  do  not  intend  to  exhaust  that  extensive  subject  I 
have  just  touched  upon:  the  comparison  between  the 
three  great  writers  of  modern  Russia.  But  I  want  to 
emphasize  one  more  feature  that  they  possess  in  com- 
mon, in  spite  of  all  their  differences  of  character  and 
opinion.  They  know  the  human  heart  in  its  different 
appearances:  women's  hearts  in  Turgeniev's  artistic 
tales  and  novels;  tragic  depths  and  base  instincts 
welded  together  with  highly  idealistic  inspirations  in 
Dostoyevsky's  deep  analysis;  finally,  the  complete 
scale  of  human  feeling  in  dispassionate,  epic  stream 
of  Tolstoy's  great  work. 

In  the  painting  and  music  of  this  period  (1850-1880) 
there  was  an  equally  exuberant  outpouring.  The  move- 
ment was  again  led  in  the  same  direction  of  truth  and 
sincerity.  A  tendency  to  follow  literature  as  closely  as 
possible  prevailed.  The  language  of  sounds  and  of 
colors  was  to  follow  closely  the  language  of  words.  A 
painter  would  choose  such  a  subject  for  his  treatment 
as  would  enable  him  to  aid  the  giants  of  literature  in 
promoting  the  cause  of  a  better  future  for  Russia.  A 
composer  would  avail  himself  of  everyday  occurrences, 


370     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

in  order  to  express  them  in  sounds.  Instead  of  choosing 
really  pictorial  or  musical  themes,  they  would  make  use 
of  their  rich  resources  of  color  and  sound  to  narrate 
and  to  criticize.  It  was  to  be  realistic  art  with  a  "pur- 
pose" and  with  a  "tendency." 

Some  weaker  artists  succumbed  to  temptation:  they 
sacrificed  realism  to  "purpose."  But  as  a  rule  realism 
asserted  itself.  Take,  e.g.,  the  same  subject,  the  vil- 
lage church  procession,  painted  by  Perov  and  by  Repin, 
a  Tolstoy  in  painting.  Perov  makes  of  it  a  scathing  ex- 
posure of  the  drunken  habits  of  the  lower  clergy.  Repin 
represents,  in  his  epical  way,  a  piece  of  the  living  Rus- 
sian reality,  and  you  can  see  how  earnestly  the  Russian 
people  feel  about  that  solemn  ritual  ceremony.  The 
great  canvases,  "The  Haulers"  and  "The  Zaporoguian 
Cossacks"  by  Repin  also  convey  to  you  the  true  spirit 
of  the  folk  in  servitude  and  in  freedom.  There  is  a 
"tendency"  here,  but  it  coincides  with  the  truth  in 
Repin's  pictorial  comment.  The  truth  is  multifold, 
and  Repin  always  wants  a  crowd  to  tell  you  how  that 
truth  reflects  itself  through  the  psychology  of  his  care- 
fully selected  groups  of  representative  types.  Each 
face  is  here  a  collective  portrait  and  a  study  in  so- 
ciology. 

Repin  is  not  well  known  abroad,  but  you  do  know 
a  painter  of  the  same  group,  Vereschaghin.  His  col- 
lective scenes  of  war  horrors  speak  so  eloquently  for 
peace  and  disarmament.  You  have  here  another  illus- 
tration of  how  realism  can  pursue  a  tendency  and  yet 
remain  thoroughly  true  to  life. 

The  group  of  realistic  painters  just  mentioned,  in 
order  to  achieve  their  aim,  had  to  free  themselves  from 
tradition.  They  began  their  activity  with  a  revolt 
against  the  Academy  of  Arts.  In  1863  they  decided 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  371 

upon  secession,  and  they  formed  their  "Society  of  Wan- 
dering Exhibitors."  Hence  the  name  of  "Wanderers," 
which  they  received.  A  generation  will  pass,  and  in 
their  turn  they  will  be  accused  by  their  "sons"  of  being 
an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  a  new  truth. 

It  is  the  same  thing — in  music.  Our  great  composer, 
Mussorgsky,  was  rightly  compared  to  Tolstoy,  so  far 
as  his  ideas  of  art  are  concerned.  We  find  here  the  same 
disregard  for  all  the  accepted  conventions  in  musical 
composition,  the  same  desire  to  remain  unsophisticated 
and  natural,  the  same  aversion  to  imitating  former 
types  of  art,  and  a  kind  of  instinctive  fear  of  being 
unconsciously  influenced  by  them.  Hence  a  decided 
omission  of  study  of  old  masters  and  a  conscious  exag- 
geration of  one's  own  originality.  "When  we  are  cruci- 
fied by  the  musical  Pharisees,"  are  Mussorgsky's  own 
words,  "then  shall  we  have  begun  to  make  real  prog- 
ress. They  will  accuse  you  of  having  violated  all  the 
divine  and  human  canons.  We  shall  just  say,  *yes>' 
adding  to  ourselves  that  there  will  be  many  such  viola- 
tions ere  long.  'You  will  soon  be  forgotten,'  they  will 
croak,  'for  ever  and  aye.'  And  our  answer  will  be:  'no, 
no  and  no.' ' 

Mussorgsky  was  right.  He  is  much  better  known 
and  admired  now  than  during  the  time  he  was  alive. 
You  know  his  "Boris  Godunov"  and  "Khovanschina," 
great  epic  work  like  Repin's  canvases.  You  may  also 
know  his  compositions  such  as  the  "Nursery"  scenes, 
which  reveal  a  great  connoisseur  of  a  child's  soul,  or 
his  "Pictures  from  an  Exhibition,"  which  are  real  pic- 
tures in  sounds,  trying  to  describe  a  troubadour  in 
front  of  a  medieval  castle,  or  a  Polish  chariot  on  huge 
wheels  driven  by  oxen,  a  little  goblin  hobbling  clum- 
sily, a  ballet  of  chickens  fresh  from  their  shells,  etc. 


372     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

I  shall  not  fail  to  mention  the  other  four  members 
of  that  renowned  group  of  the  "Five"  Russian  com- 
posers of  our  national  school:  Balakirev,  the  initiator 
of  the  group;  Borodin,  who  is  after  Mussorgsky,  per- 
haps, the  strongest  and  the  most  original;  Rimsky- 
Korsakov,  best  known  for  the  brilliancy  and  color  of 
his  instrumentation,  and  Cesar  Cui,  the  musical  critic. 
Tchaikovsky  stands  apart  from  them  and  is  accused 
of  eclecticism.  However,  it  is  not  incidental  that  of 
all  the  Russian  composers  Tchaikovsky  was  the  first 
who  won  for  Russian  music  the  largest  popularity  out- 
side of  Russia.  A  great  Slav  and  Russian  soul  speaks 
to  you  through  Tchaikovsky's  melodies.  They  are 
especially  representative  of  the  deep  melancholy  and 
sadness  which  are  Tchaikovsky's  personal  note  but  at 
the  same  time  are  typical  of  the  national  soul  of  the 
Great  Russians,  as  confirmed  by  the  Great  Russian  folk- 
songs. 

Let  us  now  pass  to  the  third  period  of  Russian  art, 
that  of  1880-1905.  One  may  call  it  the  fin  de  siede 
period,  as  it  reflects  all  the  corresponding  influences  of 
the  western  fin  de  siede  art  and  literature.  Of  course, 
according  to  the  general  law  of  our  intellectual  develop- 
ment, it  developed  in  strong  contrast  with  the  previous 
period  and  proclaims  its  complete  negation  of  the  fore- 
going period.  Being  myself  a  younger  contemporary 
of  that  generation  of  Russian  great  realists,  I  did  not 
quite  like  to  see  the  new  generation,  of  1880-1905, 
grow  too  critical  in  its  turn,  and  in  my  capacity  of  his- 
torian I  could  have  foretold  them  that  the  same  law 
of  conflict  between  "Fathers  and  Sons"  might  some  day 
be  extended  to  them  as  well.  However,  I  could  not 
deny  that  theirs  was  a  strong  case  and  that  Russian  art 
was  making  here  a  new  and  important  step  forward. 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  373 

Realism  and  naturalism  have  in  their  turn  become 
conventional,  the  new  generation  went  on  asserting. 
A  new  tradition  which  was  thus  in  the  process  of  build- 
ing, had  to  be  discarded  just  as  the  old  academic  tradi- 
tion had  been,  in  order  that  the  new  reformers  might 
recuperate  their  freedom. 

Why  did  they  need  it? 

Their  contention  was  that  the  problems  of  art  should 
not  be  made  subsidiary  to  rational,  non-artistic  consid- 
erations. They  insisted  that  there  should  be  no  more 
narrative  painting  or  music.  The  painter  should  return 
to  his  own  pictorial  subjects,  and  the  composer  must 
proceed  to  solve  his  own  problems  of  sound,  without 
committing  himself  to  the  dictates  of  literature,  and 
especially  without  serving  any  political  "purpose."  We 
shall  soon  see  that  the  trend  of  literature  had  also 
changed  accordingly. 

This  was,  as  I  have  said,  a  very  just  and  right  con- 
tention, with  the  only  exception  that  some  politics  was, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  substituted  for  the  former  politics 
of  realistic  radicalism.  Here  are  the  very  words  of 
Alexander  Benois,  one  of  the  group.  "All  that  was 
vigorous  and  young,"  he  states;  "the  slogan  of  these 
protestants  was  the  cult  of  old  Russian  culture,  a  some- 
what Slavophil  slogan."  The  "Slavophils"  were  the 
Russian  nationalist  conservatives. 

And  indeed,  the  emancipation  from  realism,  which 
was  now  considered  too  shallow  and  prosaic,  came 
through  renewed  contact  with  old  Russian  historical 
tradition.  "By  the  way  of  historical  painting,"  Mr. 
Benois  states,  "Russian  art  passed  from  narrow,  doc- 
trinal realism  to  new  creative  efforts."  But  "history," 
mere  history,  was  not  enough  for  the  new  Romanticism 
which  was  now  coming  to  the  forefront.  What  at- 


374     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

tracted  the  new  generation  in  history  was  its  mysterious 
darkness,  its  connection  with  legend  and  faith,  with 
fairy  tales  of  the  folk-lore  and  religious  inspiration, — 
in  short,  with  everything  that  could  stimulate  the 
imagination  and  generate  deep  moral  emotion. 

It  was  chiefly  painting  that  made  itself  instrumental 
in  carrying  out  the  new  movement  of  protest.  Mr. 
Serge  Diaghilev's  review,  "The  World  of  Art"  ("Mir 
Iskusstva,"  1898-1904),  made  itself  a  combative  organ 
of  the  movement,  and  the  artists  who  grouped  them- 
selves around  that  review  formed  their  own  society  for 
exhibitions  of  their  new  art,  in  harsh  conflict  with  the 
old-school  paintings  of  the  "Wanderers."  The  new 
school  wished  again,  first  and  foremost,  to  be  sincere 
and  true  to  themselves,  and,  while  revealing  their  own 
souls,  the  artists  considered  what  they  produced  as  the 
first  revelation  of  a  real  national  soul  of  Russia.  They, 
again,  did  not  care  a  bit  about  the  generally  accepted 
standards  of  public  opinion  and  they  were  never  afraid 
of  shocking  it  by  their  innovations  in  technique,  more 
daring  than  any  made  by  the  earlier  reformers. 

They  were  justified  by  their  final  success,  which  came 
at  the  end  of  the  period,  after  a  long  and  fierce  struggle. 
Moreover,  they  made  themselves  much  better  known 
and  appreciated  outside  of  Russia  than  their  predeces- 
sors had  ever  been.  It  is  partly  due  to  the  perfected 
methods  of  international  intercourse,  partly  to  the  per- 
sonal contact  of  some  representative  members  of  the 
new  school  with  foreign  opinion,  and  partly  to  the 
coincidence  of  the  new  Russian  tendencies  with  changes 
of  artistic  taste  outside  Russia,  But,  of  course,  the 
chief  reason  for  the  victory  of  the  new  artistic  spirit  in 
Russia  is  that  they  were  able  to  give  to  the  world 
really  wonderful  creations. 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  375 

The  originators  of  the  new  school  were,  as  usual,  less 
fortunate.  Vrubel,  whose  creative  genius  is  especially 
appreciated  by  his  contemporaries,  made  some  of  the 
first  bold  attempts,  based  partly  on  his  study  of  By- 
zantine art  in  Ravenna.  But  his  career  was  cut  short 
by  insanity,  and  his  renowned  "Demon"  was  painted 
when  he  was  already  in  the  clutches  of  his  illness. 
Other  representatives  of  historical  and  ecclesiastical 
painting  were  more  successful:  Victor  Vasnetsov,  who 
found  his  inspiration  in  the  same  source  of  Byzantine 
art  and  Russian  popular  legend;  Surikov,  whose  can- 
vases form  a  counterpart  to  those  of  Repin,  a  "Dos- 
toyevsky  in  painting,"  describing  the  internal  pains  of 
the  national  soul,  deeply  religious  and  profoundly  dis- 
turbed in  its  belief,  as  opposed  to  Repin's  dispassionate 
epics.  Valentine  Serov,  the  acknowledged  leader  of 
the  new  art  and  the  connecting  link  with  the  realistic 
school,  marks  the  consecutive  evolution  of  the  transi- 
tional stage:  "a  man  of  unusual  sincerity,  and  absolute 
enemy  of  posing  and  of  every  preconceived  tendency," 
a  "truly  Russian  painter  who  grasped  the  psychology 
of  the  Russian  mind"  (A.  Benois).  Then  came  the 
uncompromising  Roerich,  whom  America  now  knows 
from  his  exhibitions.  It  is  not  reality,  but  vision, 
legend,  myth,  that  Mr.  Roerich  is  exclusively  concerned 
with,  and  he  depicts  his  visions  in  wonderful  colors  and 
in  purposely  "stylicized"  contours.  He  wants  you  to 
go  back  with  him  to  the  mysterious  origin  of  things, 
when  human  forms  were  welded  with  those  of  nature, 
and  matter  and  spirit  were  one.  Or  he  would  lift  you 
to  ethereal  regions  of  things  unseen.  Some  European 
critic  called  Roerich  a  "new  and  remarkable  interpreter 
of  the  Old  Testament."  My  comparison  will  be  more 
pagan,  but  I  think  it  covers  the  ground  better.  Mr. 


376     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

Roerich's  cosmogony  rather  reminds  one  of  Wagner, 
than  of  the  Book  of  Genesis.  It  begins,  like  that  of 
Wagner,  hi  deep  and  elemental  tones  of  the  world 
chaos  (the  first  bars  of  the  "Rheingold")  and  it  winds 
up  in  a  clarified  apotheosis  of  a  Parsifal — in  Roerich's 
latest  creations.  However,  the  best  characterization  of 
Roerich  is,  perhaps,  that  given  in  a  letter  which  he  re- 
ceived from  M.  Tagore,  which  was  recently  published. 
"Your  pictures,"  M.  Tagore  writes,  "made  me  realize 
that  .  .  .  truth  is  infinite.  When  I  tried  to  find  words 
to  describe  to  myself  what  were  the  ideas  which  your 
pictures  suggested,  I  failed.  It  was  because  the  lan- 
guage of  words  can  only  express  a  particular  aspect  of 
truth,  and  the  language  of  pictures  finds  its  domain  in 
truth  where  words  have  no  access.  Each  art  achieves 
its  perfection  where  it  opens  for  our  mind  its  special 
gate  whose  key  is  in  its  exclusive  possession.  .  .  .  When 
one  art  can  fully  be  expressed  by  another,  then  it  is  a 
failure.  .  .  .  Your  art  is  jealous  of  its  independence, 
because  it  is  great." * 

From  what  has  been  said  before  you  see  that  Tagore's 
appreciation  hits  the  point.  It  appears  to  be  an  un- 
biased justification  of  the  new  trend  of  our  national 
school  of  painting. 

Our  national  school  of  music  was  already  compara- 
tively more  free  from  such  "purpose"  and  "tendency" 
as  was  suggested  by  the  literature  of  the  "sixties"  and 
the  "seventies."  That  is  why  the  artistic  reaction  of 
the  fin  de  siecle  generation  was  here  less  pronounced 
than  it  was  in  the  case  of  the  spiritualist  revolt  against 
realism  in  painting.  But  a  reaction  of  a  similar  kind 
also  took  place  in  musical  composition. 

At  the  basis  of  it  we  find  the  same  desire  to  renounce 

1  The  Arts,  Jan.,  1921,  New  York. 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  377 

the  "purpose,"  the  "program,"  in  order  to  make  a 
larger  and  more  appropriate  use  of  proper  means  of 
this  particular  art.  A  sound,  Stravinski  thinks  and 
says,  is,  first  and  foremost,  a  sound.  You  must  not 
search  for  a  combination  of  sounds  to  convey  to  you 
an  idea  which  may  be  better  expressed  in  words.  The 
sound  is  there  for  its  own  sake,  just  as  color,  in  a  pic- 
ture. The  speech  of  colors  and  of  sounds  may  not  be 
translatable  in  words:  so  much  the  worse  for  words. 
Let  us  enjoy  colors  and  sounds  as  such,  for  their  in- 
trinsic beauty.  To  attain  this  aim  we  need  a  display  of 
sounds  and  colors  unhampered  and  unlimited  by  form, 
by  texture  or  drawing.  The  frame,  the  organizing  ele- 
ment, is  thus  relegated  to  the  second  place.  It  is  the 
substance  of  sound,  of  color,  which  is  given  free  space. 

Innovations  in  technique  are  here  also  welded  with 
a  tendency  to  mysticism,  to  a  religious  penetration 
through  the  sound  into  superior  worlds  of  the  spirit, 
known  to  the  adepts  of  theosophy.  Alexander  Scria- 
bin's  creative  effort  in  music  is  a  counterpart  to  that 
of  Roerich  in  painting.  Music  for  Scriabin  is  a 
method  of  a  higher  synthesis  of  life,  art  and  religion. 
Creative  ecstasy  is  the  state  of  emotion  apt  to  attain 
the  full  light  of  knowledge  on  the  mystical  ways  of 
nature.  A  normal  harmony,  based  on  the  usual  dia- 
tonic scale,  is  too  narrow  a  frame  for  Mr.  Scriabin's 
inspiration.  He  is  constantly  in  search  of  new  har- 
monies, of  more  refined  scales,  of  less  solid  and  more 
volatile  sounds,  which  should  be  able  to  reflect  by  in- 
cessant quivers  a  sort  of  peculiarly  mystical  vibration. 

The  transcendental  aim,  of  course,  was  not  attained. 
Scriabin  died  like  Vrubel,  in  the  very  process  of  con- 
juring up  a  "mystery"  to  be  brought  down  to  the  earth. 
His  poem,  "Mystery,"  was  never  completed.  But  his 


378    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

earlier  symphonic  productions.  "The  Divine  Poem," 
"The  Poem  of  Ecstasy,"  "Prometheus,  the  Poem  of 
Fire,"  as  well  as  his  compositions  for  the  piano,  after 
a  period  of  struggle  and  misunderstanding,  have  defi- 
nitely won  a  prominent  place  in  musical  performances 
all  the  world  over. 

For  many  reasons  literature  did  not  prove  during 
the  period  from  1880-1905  as  prompt  and  as  much 
decided  on  a  new  start,  as  either  painting  or  music.  The 
giants  of  the  preceding  period  still  retained  their  influ- 
ence, while  new  talents  did  not  prove  strong  enough 
to  herald  a  great  change.  The  political  reaction  of 
Alexander  Ill's  entire  reign  (1881-1894),  which  fol- 
lowed the  glorious  beginning  of  national  creation  under 
Alexander  II  (1856-1881),  seemed  to  have  stifled  liter- 
ary inspiration.  A  protest  against  political  "tendency" 
and  "purpose"  in  literature  coincided  too  much  with 
the  opposite,  the  reactionary  politics,  to  be  inspiring.  A 
romantic  return  to  religion  and  metaphysics  also  did 
not  prove  generally  attractive.  The  current  idea  that 
art  is  concerned  with  beauty,  not  with  morality  or  poli- 
tics, has  actually  inspired  some  poets,  e.g.,  Balmont 
and  Briusov,  a  novelist  like  Mereshkovsky,  and  some 
literary  critics.  But,  in  contradistinction  to  what  was 
happening  in  the  domain  of  music  and  painting,  they 
had  nothing  great  and  new  to  show  in  order  to  prove 
their  thesis  by  facts.  They  extolled  Dostoyevsky,  the 
most  biased  politician  and  the  least  inclined  to  wor- 
ship an  abstract  ideal  of  beauty.  At  the  same  time 
Tolstoy  began  his  open  revolt  against  art,  as  being 
"incomprehensible"  and  "unnecessary"  to  the  people, 
and  he  simply  used  his  great  talent  to  preach  his  morai 
ideas.  In  short,  the  "modernists"  in  literature  have 
found  no  hearing,  and  their  literary  organ,  The  North- 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  379 

ern  Messenger  (Severny  Viestnik)  ceased  publication, 
after  two  years  of  existence  (1897)  "for  lack  of  sub- 
scribers." Such  new  writers  of  note  as  appeared  at 
that  period,  Chekhov,  Gorky,  Leonid  Andreyev,  Kup- 
rin,  in  spite  of  all  their  differences,  must  be  classified 
as  "realists."  Chekhov,  the  greatest  among  them,  is 
probably  the  nearest  to  the  realization  of  the  modernist 
idea  of  "pure  art."  But  it  is  just  because  he  is  a  real- 
ist and  not  a  theorist.  He  depicted  Russian  life  just 
as  he  found  it,  without  emphasis  or  exaggeration  and 
without  resorting  to  dramatic  effects.  But  life  itself 
at  that  period  of  reaction  was  dull  and  empty  and 
devoid  of  any  political  interest.  Chekhov's  great  art 
lay  in  his  power  to  show  life  as  it  really  was,  and  to 
conduct  his  reader  through  his  endless  gallery  of  hu- 
man types,  taken  from  all  social  layers,  in  their  every- 
day postures.  This  is  Russia  before  the  Revolution, 
at  its  period  of  utter  despair  and  moral  depression,  and 
the  world  outside  Russia  was  right  to  take  Chekhov 
for  the  best  guide  through  that  real  Russia.  But  one 
must  not  forget  that  this  is  not  all  Russia,  and  that 
the  psychological  moment  described  is  a  transient  one, 
between  two  great  periods  of  national  effort.  This  is 
just  the  time  of  "no  heroes."  Chekhov's  intellectual 
types  crave  for  life  and  activity.  But  they  have  never 
had  the  chance  to  act  and  to  live.  They  are  sad,  and 
they  would  like  to  be  otherwise,  but  they  have  not 
force  enough  even  for  a  real  drama.  They  just  live  on. 
"Time  will  pass,"  one  of  the  "Three  Sisters"  says,  "and 
we  shall  go  away  forever.  They  will  forget  us,  they 
will  forget  our  faces,  our  voices.  But  our  sufferings 
will  pass  into  gladness  for  those  who  will  live  after  us." 
That  sister,  Olga,  is  right.  Her  face  and  her  voice  are 
forgotten,  but  Chekhov's  play  and  his  tales  will  live, 


380    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

and  they  are  already  known  all  over  the  world.  This 
is  just  truth,  and  truth  is  immortal. 

It  would  be  unjust  were  I  to  forget  to  tell  you  that 
a  great  part  of  the  success  of  Chekhov's  plays  in  Russia 
is  due  to  that  other  peculiarly  Russian  creation:  the 
"Art  Theater"  by  Mr.  Stanislavsky.  The  very  well- 
known  theatrical  critic  and  reformer,  Mr.  Gordon 
Craig,  saw  that  theater  in  Moscow,  and  this  is  what  he 
says  of  it.  "What  the  Russians  do  upon  their  stage, 
they  do  to  perfection.  They  waste  time,  money,  labor, 
brains  and  patience  like  emperors.  Like  true  emperors 
they  do  not  think  they  have  done  all  when  they  have 
merely  spent  a  lavish  sum  upon  decorations  and  ma- 
chinery. .  .  .  They  give  hundreds  of  rehearsals  to  a 
play,  they  change  and  rechange  a  scene  until  it  bal- 
ances to  their  thought ;  they  rehearse,  and  rehearse,  and 
rehearse,  inventing  detail  upon  detail  with  consum- 
mate care  and  patience  and  always  with  vivid  intelli- 
gence. Seriousness,  character,  these  two  qualities  will 
guide  the  Moscow  Art  Theater  to  unending  success  in 
Europe  and  elsewhere." 

This  prediction  has  already  materialized,  especially 
in  our  days  of  the  Russian  dispersion,  due  to  the  Bol- 
shevist tyranny.  The  foundations  to  the  present  suc- 
cess of  the  Russian  theater  abroad  are,  however,  laid 
at  the  period  now  reviewed.  The  stage  has  become  the 
center  of  Russian  artistic  activity  abroad  since  about 
fifteen  years  ago:  since  1906,  when  Serge  Diaghilev 
came  to  Paris.  A  tournee  by  Adolph  Bolm  followed, 
with  28  Russian  dancers,  including  Pavlowa,  through 
Finland,  Sweden  and  Germany.  Then  Diaghilev  reap- 
peared, in  1909,  in  Paris.  The  names  of  Karsavina, 
Pavlowa,  the  Fokines,  Bolm,  Mordkin,  Neshinski  and 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  381 

others  have  gradually  become  known  in  both  hemi- 
spheres. It  was  just  the  time  of  revival  for  the  Russian 
ballet,  too,  on  the  same  principle  of  freedom  from  con- 
ventionality and  tradition,  and  putting  in  the  fore 
sincerity  and  steadiness  of  purpose.  As  the  display  of 
color  was  one  of  the  principal  slogans  of  the  new  Rus- 
sian art,  our  painters  were  hot  satisfied  with  the  limited 
frame  of  a  picture.  They  became  decorators  and  in- 
ventors of  costumes,  from  MM.  Benois,  Bakst,  Do- 
bushinsky,  Bilibin,  to  Sudeikin  and  Goncharova.  The 
best  creative  effort  is  now  centered  upon  the  stage,  as 
you  can  see  for  yourself  in  this  country.  Stravinsky 
and  Prokofiev  write  their  music  for  the  stage,  Roerich 
paints  the  decorations.  In  1918  you  saw  Rimsky- 
Korsakov's  "Coq  d'Or"  on  your  Metropolitan  Opera 
stage.  The  next  season  it  was  Stravinsky's  "Pet- 
rushka."  You  saw  Adolph  Bolm's  "Ballet  Intime,"  and 
the  Chicagoans  have  just  listened  to  Prokofiev's  new 
production,  "Three  Oranges,"  and  are  going  to  see 
and  to  hear  Rimsky-Korsakov's  other  chef-d'ceuvre, 
"Snegurotchka"  (the  Snow  Girl),  with  Roerich's  deco- 
rations. The  secret  of  all  this  success  was  given  away 
by  Gordon  Craig,  as  quoted  above.  The  Russian  art- 
ists know  what  they  are  about,  they  are  sincere  and  in 
earnest,  they  work  for  a  real  moral  success,  and  they 
do  not  care  about  the  rest. 

I  must  now  come  back  to  the  last,  the  revolutionary 
period  of  Russian  creative  production.  I  put  its  be- 
ginning at  the  first  year  of  our  first  Revolution — 1905. 
I  do  not  know  whether  history  will  confirm  this  chrono- 
logical division.  Most  of  us  feel  that  here  something 
new  began  to  make  itself  felt  in  life  as  well  as  in  art. 
Just  what  is  it?  The  answer  can  only  be  given  when 


382     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

this  period  is  closed,  which  is  not  yet  the  case.  That  is 
why  the  characteristics  of  the  period  can  only  be  ten- 
tatively discussed. 

One  thing  seems  to  be  beyond  dispute.  The  revolu- 
tionary movement  of  1905-1906  was  not  favorable  to 
the  spirit  of  Romantic  reaction  of  the  fin  de  siecle  type. 
So  many  "new  words"  advertised  since  1880,  passed 
into  history.  Chekhov's  sadness  and  boredom  had  to 
give  way  to  a  new  period  of  feverish  activity.  The 
doomsday,  predicted  by  moral  philosophers  like  Vladi- 
mir Soloviev,  was  postponed.  Wholesome  optimism 
took  the  place  of  gloomy  forebodings,  and  individual- 
istic strivings,  influenced  by  Nietzsche,  entered  into 
queer  alliances  with  collectivist  teachings.  The  spell 
of  mysticism  was  broken,  at  least  for  a  time.  In  one 
way  or  another,  most  of  the  representatives  of  the 
"modernist"  movement  were  touched  by  the  new 
breath  of  time  and  modified  accordingly  their  artistic 
production.  Maxim  Gorky  became  a  favorite  and  a 
proletarian  hero.  Briusov,  Balmont,  Mereshkovsky 
hailed  the  revolution  and  constitution.  Religious  phi- 
losophers became  philosophical  socialists  or  mystical 
anarchists.  The  first  excess  of  that  revolutionary  con- 
tagion soon  passed,  with  the  failure  of  the  first  revolu- 
tion. But  pure  Romanticism  was  shattered  and  has 
never  returned.  The  public  at  large  have  reconciled 
themselves  to  the  modernists,  but  at  the  same  time  the 
modernist  movement  has  lost  its  firm  and  fixed  out- 
lines. The  generation  has  become  eclectic.  And  that 
is  why  it  is  so  difficult  to  characterize  the  fourth  period, 
from  1905-1921.  The  one  thing  that  is  certain  is  that 
it  is  not  a  mere  continuation  of  the  former  period  of 
1880-1905. 

However,  certain  features  begin  to  detach  themselves 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  383 

in  that  darkness,  owing  to  that  character  of  eclecticism 
which  was  impressed  on  the  movement  after  1905. 
Eclecticism  seems  to  have  played  this  time  the  part  that 
genuine  protests  against  tradition  had  formerly  played. 
The  new  Romantic  tradition,  with  its  mystical  under- 
current, is  no  more  obligatory.  Again  life  seems  to 
take  the  place  of  visions.  The  neglected  form  is  com- 
ing back  and  is  beginning  to  circumscribe  the  limitless 
display  of  color  and  sound.  The  result  will  be  syn- 
thetic: some  happy  combination  of  idealistic  and  real- 
istic elements  in  art  which  may  augur  the  advent  of  a 
new  classical  period  of  Russian  national  art. 

Let  us  take  some  instances  from  contemporary  music 
and  painting.  Stravinsky's  last  productions  undoubt- 
edly reveal  that  double  tendency.  He  still  goes  on 
studying  sound  as  such.  He  brings  together  most 
unusual  instruments;  he  lets  them  show  their  special 
color,  their  peculiar  sonorities,  and  he  is  satisfied  with 
his  new  result,  new  unheard-of  combinations.  He  just 
breaks  up  his  phrase,  without  any  development,  as  soon 
as  he  is  through  with  his  experiments.  These  are 
sketches  in  musical  coloring,  separate  touches,  separate 
bricks  for  some  new  edifice  to  be  built.  In  the  mean- 
time Stravinsky  writes  in  the  idiom  more  intelligible 
to  the  average  person  and  not  necessarily  for  the  ar- 
tistic elite.  Listen  to  his  "Impressions  of  War":  you 
will  hear  the  form,  the  rhythm,  the  melodies,  fit  for 
the  "Gartenmusik"  such  as  one  hears  at  watering 
places,  with  the  whole  brilliancy  of  Stravinsky's  or- 
chestra preserved.  Take  another  of  our  youngest  com- 
posers, Prokofiev.  Some  parts  of  his  "Scythian  Sym- 
phony" are  just  a  counterpart  of  Roerich's  "Adoration 
of  the  Sun."  Primitive  men  in  primitive  rhythm  dance 
to  the  rising  sun.  The  dash  and  glitter  of  the  first  sun- 


384     RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

beams  is  beautifully  depicted  by  an  unusual  combina- 
tion of  sounds  in  a  perpetual  crescendo.  But  this  is  a 
return  to  program,  to  the  music  with  purpose,  to  the 
great  master  Mussorgsky!  Of  course,  it  is  not  a  re- 
turn with  empty  hands,  but  with  newly  enriched  tech- 
nical resources.  And  what  about  the  adaptation  of 
.sound  to  word  in  his  "Three  Oranges,"  the  lively 
dialogues  of  choirs?  I  do  not  know  what  will  come  next 
from  Prokofiev,  but  I  know  that  he  is  now  entrained  to 
come  back  to  the  old  masters  of  form,  including 
Mozart. 

Let  us  now  take  parallel  instances  from  modern 
painting.  Here  the  reversion  to  Idealism  is  still  more 
distinctive  than  in  music.  But  here  again  realism  is 
not  quite  what  it  was  in  the  "sixties"  and  the  "seven- 
ties." In  the  first  place,  the  topics  chosen  are  mostly 
not  political,  but  pictorial.  In  the  second  place,  the 
treatment  of  them  reminds  one  rather  of  the  natural- 
ism of  the  early  Renaissance,  than  of  modern  realism. 
This  is  realism  of  the  primitives.  We  have  a  very 
strong  group  of  young  painters  whose  work  confirms 
that  impression.  Mr.  Yakovlev  reproduces  scenes 
from  the  Far  East  without  any  stylization  at  all.  But 
when  he  is  left  to  himself,  his  painting,  just  as  that  of 
Mr.  Shuhayev  reminds  one  of  Van  Eyck's  minute  ac- 
curacy in  smallest  details.  This  is  an  extremely  hard 
and  conscientious  worker.  Another  young  and  already 
powerful  painter,  Boris  Grigoriev,  brings  us  back  to 
the  naturalism  of  a  Mateo  Mattei  of  Siena  or  of  Man- 
tegna.  Mr.  Grigoriev  escaped  recently  from  Bolshe- 
vist Russia  and  he  is  still  haunted  with  pictures  of 
the  horrors,  misery  and  starvation  of  his  native  coun- 
try. He  gives  us  a  selection  of  types  of  that  Bolshe- 
vist "Rassaya" :  he  purposely  makes  use  of  that  popu- 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  385 

larly  distorted  form  of  the  world  "Russia."  The  types 
are  horrible,  almost  inhuman.1  If  you  compare  them 
with  original  studies  by  the  painter  of  the  actual  types 
of  a  peasant-soldier,  or  a  religious  fanatic,  you  will 
realize  the  "purpose."  It  is  an  exaggeration  of  natural- 
ism, but  how  different  from  Perov's  or  Repin's  realism, 
and  how  primitively  sincere  in  its  attempt  to  enforce 
on  you  the  impression  desired  by  the  painter! 

Grigoriev's  canvas  reminds  me  of  another  artistic 
criticism  of  Bolshevist  Russia, — a  criticism  intended  to 
be  its  apotheosis.  I  mean  the  poem  of  the  late  Alex- 
ander Block,  "The  Twelve."  The  Twelve  Red  sentinels 
patrol  the  streets  of  Petrograd  in  the  night;  a  snow- 
storm rages  around ;  some  old  Russian  types  disappear 
in  the  whirlwind,  while  the  Red  band  "without  a  cross" 
proceeding  in  "sovereign  march,"  prepare  to  loot  the 
"bourgeoisie"  secluded  in  their  houses,  kill  by  the  way 
a  prostitute  friend  of  their  fellow  soldier,  whom  they 
want  to  rob  of  her  newly  acquired  money.  They  go 
on  further  singing  robber  songs,  while  Jesus  Christ,  in 
a  crown  of  white  roses,  unseen  through  the  storm,  and 
untouched  by  the  bullets  of  their  shots,  leads  the  Red 
procession.  In  a  posthumous  verse  A.  Block  changes 
his  mind  and  tries  to  explain  away  the  last  feature. 
But  taken  as  a  whole,  his  inspired  picture  of  that 
Petrograd  night  remains  the  best  and  most  realistic 
summary  of  that  moral  chaos  which  makes  no  real 
creation  possible. 

However,  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  think  that  all  art 
has  perished  in  Bolshevist  Russia.  On  the  contrary, 
Russian  art  is,  probably,  the  only  thing  which  still  con- 
tinues to  exist  amidst  the  general  ruin.  But,  in  the 

*See  the  reproduction  of  that  great  canvas,  very  important  for  the 
history  of  our  painting,  in  Musical  America,  December  10,  1921. 


386    RUSSIA  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

first  place,  this  is  only  the  continuation  and  the  preser- 
vation of  formerly  acquired  art  richesses.  As  Mr.  Say- 
ler  says  in  his  recent  book  on  "The  Russian  Theater 
Under  the  Revolution,"  "The  Russian  theater  con- 
tinues to-day  not  because  but  in  spite  of  the  social 
struggle.  .  .  .  It  is  the  theater  of  the  first  two  decades 
of  the  XX  Century.  .  .  .  The"  theater  as  the  Revolu- 
tion will  transform  it,  has  not  yet  appeared."  This 
observation  may  also  be  applied  to  other  branches  of 
art. 

But  will  a  transformation  come  as  a  result  of  the 
Revolution?  Or  will  it  be  a  complete  decay  of  crea- 
tive effort  and,  as  some  people  have  said,  will  Russia 
be  great  only  in  her  past?  As  the  current  idea  is  that 
the  Russian  intellectual  class  has  been  wholly  exter- 
minated, what  can  take  its  place?  And  has  not  the 
spirit  of  refinement  gone  entirely  from  Russian  culture, 
together  with  the  Russian  upper  class? 

I  might  answer  by  pointing  to  that  part  of  the  Rus- 
sian intellectuals  and  members  of  the  privileged  class 
which  is  being  preserved  in  the  ranks  of  the  Russian 
emigration  in  the  various  countries.  But  it  would  not 
be  to  the  point.  The  question  is  whether  a  new  wave 
of  creative  inspiration  can  be  expected  to  come  from 
within  the  new  and  democratized  Russia.  And  the 
right  answer  is  that  Russian  art  became  democratized 
more  than  half  a  century  ago.  Most  of  our  artists 
and  many  of  our  writers,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  have  come 
from  the  lower  middle  class  and  from  the  class  of  farm- 
ers. The  period  of  purely  aristocratic  culture  came 
to  an  end  as  early  as  1860.  The  kind  of  refinement  it 
implied  may  have  gone  in  Russia,  as  was  also  the  case 
in  other  countries  of  Europe  after  1789  and  1848.  But 
new  generations  evolve  new  forms  of  moral  and  intel- 


RUSSIA'S  CONTRIBUTION  387 

lectual  culture,  and  the  enlarged  social  basis  of  a  post- 
revolutionary  development  is  sure  to  bring  with  it  new 
possibilities.  It  may  take  the  shape  of  a  return  to  the 
primitive;  a  period  of  indecision  and  standstill  may 
intervene.  But  it  does  not  mean  stagnation  and  death. 
I  even  strongly  doubt  that  it  will  be  a  completely  new 
start.  It  is  more  probable  that  the  symptoms  of  a  new 
synthesis,  which  I  have  just  mentioned,  will  evolve 
into  full  blossom,  and  a  stage  of  new  equilibrium,  a 
second  classical  epoch,  may  be  in  view. 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX 


Alexander  I,  15 

Alexander  III,  16 

Alexeiev,  General,  20,  21,  24,  137, 

138,  139,  148 
Allied    Intervention    in   Siberia, 

317-322 
American  Relief  Administration, 

250-251,  256-260 
America's  Policy  towards  Russia, 

303-305,  317-318,  320-321,  326- 

327,  347-350 
Andreyev,  Leonid,  379 
Angora,  118 
Armenia,  81,  88,  90 
Armenians,  73 

Avxentiev,  151,  152,  153,  154 
Azerbaidjan,  88,  90,  303 

Bakst,  381 

Balakirev,  372 

Balfour,  89-90 

Balmpnt,  378,  382 

Benois,  Alexander,  373,  381 

Bilibin,  381 

Block,  Alexander,  385 

Bolm,  Adolph,  380,  381 

Bolshevist    (Communist)    Party, 

61,  62,  64,  65,  70 
Borodin,  372 
Brest-Litovsk  Treaty,  57,  66,  85, 

89 
Briusov,  378,  382 

Catherine  II,  15 

"Che-Ka,"  69,  273 

Chekhov,  379-380 

Chicherin,  113,  114,  335 

China,  302 

Chinese  Eastern  Railway,  351-354 


Churchill,  Winston,  111 
Clemenceau,  111 
Colby,  Secretary,  91-93,  304 
Constantinople,  302 
Constituent  Assembly,  27,  31,  32, 

35,  38,  51,  53,  56,  89,  94,  166,  187 
Constituent  Assembly  of  Eastern 

Siberia,  338-339 
Constitution  of  1906,  17 
Constitutional-Democratic  Party 

("Cadets"),  3,  30,  31,  81,  165, 

318 
Cooperative   organizations,   291- 

292 
Cooperative  organizations  under 

Bolshevism,  219 
Cossacks,  167, 173-174,  180,  182 
Cotton  industry,  194-195 
Craig,  Gordon,  380,  381 
Cui,  Cesar,  372 
Czecho-Slovaks,  133-134,  149,  150, 

151,  162,  320,  321 

Dargomishsky,  366-367 
Denikin,  General,  138,  143,  148, 

164-174 

Diaghilev,  Serge,  380 
"Directory,"  151 
Dobushinsky,  381 
Dostoyeysky,  368-369 
Dragomirov,  General,  166 
Dukhonin,  General,  65 
Duma,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  14,  19,  21,  23, 

24,  29,  30,  80,  82 

Education  under  Bolshevism,  280- 

283 

Emancipation  Act  of  1861,  13 
Esthonia,  87,  175 
Esthonians,  73 


389 


390 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX 


"Far  Eastern  Republic,"  333-336, 

338,  339,  341 
Federation,  293-294 
Fedotov,  367 
Finances  under  Bolshevism.  211- 

213 

Finland,  6 
Finno-Ugrians,  73 
Finns,  73,  78,  83 
Flax  production,  194 
Fokines,  380 
France,  183 
Fuel  production,  191-192 

Genoa,  269 

Georgia,  81,  88,  89,  90,  303 

Georgians,  73 

Germans,  73 

Glinka,  365,  366 

Gogol,  365 

Goncharova,  381 

Gorki,  Maxim,  274,  379,  382 

Great  Russians,  72,  74 

"Green"  Army,  171-172 

Grigoriev,  384,  385 

Grishin-Almazov,  General,  161 

Guins,  157-160 

Hanihara,  Masanao,  342-343,  346 
Hara,  Premier,  336 
Horvath,  General,  320 
Hughes,  Secretary,  92,  266,  270, 
302,  347,  348,  349-350 

India,  117,  118 

International      Russian      Relief 

Commission,  254 
International   Socialist   Congress 

at  Basel,  33 
International   Socialist   Congress 

at  Stuttgart,  33 
Irkutsk  Duma,  162 
Iron  production,  193 
Ishevsk  army,  161 
Ivanov,  Alexander,  367 
Ivanov-Renov,  General,  161 

Japanese  fishing  rights,  314-315 
Japanese  intervention  in  Siberia, 
319-320,  322-346 


Jews,  73,  78 
Joffe,  102 

Kaledin,  General,  141 

Kamenev,  64,  112 

Kappel,  General,  336 

Karsavina,  380 

Kautsky,  35,  52 

Kerensky,  35,  38,  39,  154 

Keynes,  270 

Kienthal  Conference,  98 

Kishkin,  252-253 

Knox,  General,  152,  154,  161 

Kolchak,  Admiral,  148,  152,  153, 

154-165,  324,  325,  326 
Kornilov,  General,  38,  39,  40,  138, 

139,  142 

Krasnov,  Ataman,  145 
Krassin,  203 
Krimov,  General,  21 
Kropotkin,  Prince,  270 
Krylenko,  65 
Kuban,  167 
Kun,  Bela,  103 
Kuno,  Yoshi  S.,  305-309 
Kuprin,  379 

Land  problem,  12,  13,  14 

Landed  aristocracy,  12 

Landowners,  171 

Larin,  58,  59,  223 

Latsis,  68 

Latvia,  87 

"League  of  Nations,"  109,  302 

Lenin,  24,  34,  35,  38,  40,  46,  48, 

49,  50,  51,  52,  55,  56,  83,  84,  99, 

100,  101,  102,  108,  109-110,  112, 

268,  272-273 
Liebknecht,  102 
Lithuania,  80-81 
Lithuanians,  73 
Little  Russians  (Ukrainians),  72, 

74 
Lloyd  George,  19,  86,  87,  90,  111, 

147,  183,  270 
Lockhart,  106 
Lomov,  203 
Lvov,  Prince,  41 

March,  General,  175 
Martov,  34 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX 


391 


Masaryk,  President,  321 
Maslov,  8.,  190,  283,  284 
Medvediev,  334,  339 
Mereshkovsky,  378,  382 
Merkulov,  340,  341 
Militarization  of  labor,  205-208 
Milner,  Lord,  295 
Monarchists,  27,  186-187,  286-287 
Monarchy,  274,  275 
Mongols,  73 
Mordkin,  380 
Moscow  Art  Theatre,  380 
Mussorgsky,  371 
Mussulmans,  81 

Nansen,  Dr.,  231,  253,  254,  256, 

268 

Nationalities  in  Russia,  16 
Neshinski,  380 

Ni«holas  II,  2,  3,  19,  20,  21,  27 
Nicolayevsk,  345-346 
Nicolayevsk  incident,  327-333 
"Northwestern"  Government,  175 

October  Manifesto,  2 

Pavlova,  380 

Peasantry  under  Bolshevism,  208- 

230 

Peasants,  12 
Pepelayev,  Victor,  164 
Perov,  370 

Peter  the  Great,  11,  13,  15 
Poland,  6,  86-87,  182,  183,  304 
Poles,  73,  78 
Polish  independence,  80 
Population     under     Bolshevism, 

190-192 

"Pravda,"  104 
"Progressive  bloc,"  19 
Prokofiev,  381,  384 
Provisional  Government,  29,  32, 

35 
Pushkin,  364-365 

Quakers'  organization,  256 

Radek,  102 

Rasputin,  20,  21 

Red  Army,  66,  67,  70,  273 


Red  Terror,  68,  69,  70 

Repin,  370 

Revolution  of  1905,  1,  2, 18 

Riga  Treaty,  86-87,  183 

Rimsky-Korsakov,  372,  381 

Robbins,  Col.  Raymond,  102,  106, 

107 

Romanovsky,  General,  167 
Roerich,  375-376,  381,  383 
Root,  Elihu,  294-295 
Rumanians,  73 
Russki,  General,  24 
Russo-Chinese  relations,  351-354 
Russo-Japanese  War,  18 
Rykov,  59,  203 

Sadoul,  Captain,  102,  106,  107 
Sakhalin,  304,  316-317,  343-344 
Scriabin,  377-378 
Second  International,  98 
Semenov,  319,  325,  336,  338,  340, 

341 

Serov,  375 
Sevres  Treaty,  88 
Shidehara,  Baron,  324,  325,  327 
Shuhayev,  384 

Siberian  colonization,  309-313 
Siberian  Government,  150-152 
Skoropadsky,  144 
Slavophils,  10 

Social-Revolutionaries,  30,  31 
Soviet  bourgeoisie,  201-202 
Soviet  Constitution,  62,  63 
Spargo,  John,  320,  323 
Stanislavsky,  380 
Stolypin,  4,  14 
Stinnes,  270,  287 
Stravinski,  377,  381,  383 
Struye,  P.  B.,  180 
Sudeikin,  381 
Sugar  production,  194 
Supreme  Council,  270 
Surikov,  375 

"Tatar  Republic,"  237-241 

Tchaikovsky,  372 

Third   International,  35,  91,  98, 

110,  270-271 

Thomas,  Albert,  19,  154 
Tobelson-Krasnoschekov,  335 
Tolstoy,  368-369 


392 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX 


Transcaucasia,  88-92 
Transcaucasian  Diet,  89 
Trotsky,  34,  66,  83,  100,  108-109. 

205,  206 
Tsereteli,  35 
Tzarina,  20,  21 
Turkeniev,  368-369 
Turkestan,  117 
Turkey,  89,  91,  302 
Turko-Tatars,  73 

Ukraine,  81,  144,  180 
"Union  of  Autonomists-Federal- 
ists," 80 
Ural  army,  161 
Urquhart,  Leslie,  266-268,  270 

Vanderlip,  Washington  B.,  337 
Vasnetsov,  375 
Venetsianov,  367 
Vereschagin,  370 


Vladivostok,    304,    334,    335-336, 

340-341 

Votkinsk  army,  161 
Vrubel,  374 

Washington  Conference,  297-298, 
302,  304-305,  324,  325,  347-350 

Wells,  H.  G.,  48,  287 

White  Russians,  72,  74 

Wilson,  President,  303,  319,  321 

Witte,  Count,  18 

Working  men  under  Bolshevism, 
196-208 

Wrangel,  General,  168,  174,  176- 
186 

Yakovlev,  384 

Yudenich,  General,  174-176 

Zimmerwald  Conference,  98 
Zinoviev,  101, 112 


A    000  674  703     " 


